Dirty Little Secret
by Predominantly Normal
Summary: Craig Tucker was a lot of things. He was a badass, an asshole, and a kid who loved playing with rats and guinea pigs. However, with everything Craig was, there was something that Craig was not. A boy. Of course, nobody could know. Fem!Craig. CREEK with dashes of Crenny [CHAPTER 9 UP!]
1. Russ

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Hey, Fanfiction. Haven't been writing as much as I'd like, and that's mostly due to a lack of motivation and myself basically despising everything I put on paper. also school's enough pressure to drown any chance I have at creativity. So, here's the Best I could manage. Sorry in advance for your eyes.**

**IN THIS FANFICTION, CRAIG TUCKER IS A FEMALE (But he's a transvestite, so)**

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"Chris-"

"It's _Craig_, mom." I snapped, cutting her off. I turned up the already blasting music of my iPod. It hardly drowned out her snarky voice, but it helped.

"Craig." She replied with distaste, her rat-like face twisted into something of disgust. I never liked that face. She looked like a rat on a constant; little beady brown eyes, a thin face, and wiry auburn hair. When she was annoyed by me, which happened quite often, she'd scrunch up her nose and her front teeth would show.

"Anyways, I was going up to Macy's today. Do you want to come with me?" She was using a sickly sweet voice, and I could tell she's forcing the smile on her face.

No doubt she only wants to take me so she can drag me into the girls aisle and find a dress to put on me. It's almost degrading, standing in the department stores with her. Not only does she want to make me look more like a girl, but she wants to make me a four year old princess. Dad is surprisingly against my mom's obsession with pink dresses and makeup. Lots of people seem to think Dad's the kind of guy who'd be an alcoholic abuse case because he spends lots of time at the bar. It's the polar opposite, actually. He'd once stepped on a spider, and looked back to see if it was okay.

"No thanks." I reply bluntly, giving her a nasty glare. Mom sighs and walks over to me, hands plastered on her hips.

"When are you going to start acting like a girl, Chris?" She snarls, her rat-teeth peeking out under her lip. I flip her off angrily, subconsciously tugging my aviator's hat down over my head further.

"Never, Mom! Cause I ain't a little girl! And my name's Craig!" I scream back, peeling myself off the plump couch and running up the stairs.

This is the routine every day. This is my constant. Mom tries to convince me to act like a lady, and I end up hiding away in my room. It's freezing cold, because my room, which is located in the attic, has awful insulation. Dad bought me a space heater, but when it's turned on it starts smelling bad. I hide under the covers of my four poster bed and sigh, snatching up my phone. I scroll through the contacts and stop at a familiar name.

Kenny McCormick.

Me and Kenny had lots in common. We both had shitty families, slept in the freezing cold, and had sisters to care for. He was an aloof guy who didn't even fear death. He told me that he died all the time, actually. I wasn't sure how much I believed him, though. I dialed his number blankly and pressed the phone to my ear. The dial tone ran around twice before Kenny answered.

"Hello?" I heard a wary greeting. His ancient Nokia was a hand-me down and the screen was broken beyond repair. He got several calls from social workers and solicitors, and was always a little cautious when answering.

"Hey, dude. S'Craig." I said in monotone into the receiver. My nasally voice really did sound boyish enough for me to avert suspicion. Not even Kenny, who picked up everything, knew who I was.

"Oh hey, Craigy-Boy! What's up?" I could hear some shuffling and crinkling fabric. I assumed Kenny was laying on something and had just picked himself up.

"Family." I snorted, scratching my neck. The dim light casted shadows across my room.

I was glad that Kenny picked up. I could've called someone else, like Tweek or Clyde, but they just didn't get family issues. Tweek's mom and dad would bend over backwards for him. And ever since Clyde's mom died, if he asked his father to jump, the man would ask, "How high?" They just didn't understand neglect. I mean, Clyde was ignored by the girls at school, but it wasn't the same. There will always be more whores. I only had one set of parents.

"Oh." Kenny replied softly, his tone gentle. "You doing alright?" He asked calmly.

"I'm- can I crash at your place?" I ran a hand through my dull raven hair, knocking off my hat. I was acting melodramatic, maybe. Kenny's family was so much worse than mine. I was imposing, but I really didn't care. I breathed heavily before huffing out in frustration. He was taking a long time answering.

"I mean, if I can't, I'll just crash at Tweek's or something." I said quickly, afraid of annoying him with my stupid problems.

"No, man, it's fine. But do you mind if we sleep at your house?" Kenny asked, halting a little.

"I wanted to get away from my house, dumbass." I snapped, flicking up my middle finger. The vulgar action was more of a habit than anything else.

I heard a soft breathing sound from the earpiece. "I would let you stay here, but..." He paused. "My house is shit, remember?" He said calmly.

I bit my lower lip, frowning. Kenny wasn't embellishing anything. His house was literally shit with a roof over it. The whole structure was caving in and peeling away, the floor gradually sinking every year, and the roof was sagging so low, I could just reach up and tap it with my palm. The whole place stunk something awful, and his parents were constantly fighting. I immediately felt a little bad. I hadn't really thought that Kenny wouldn't like to stay in his house either.

"Oh." I said without apology. Because me and Ken both know that saying sorry ain't gonna do anything. I could apologize all I want, but that doesn't mean it'll do anything. It won't fix Kenny's house. It won't mend his parents.

"S'alright." Kenny muttered, his voice low. "Maybe we should stay at your place?" He offered. I frowned, biting my lip and tapping my fingers nervously.

"Okay." I said at last.

"Great," Kenny said in a light tone. I could hear some relief in his smooth voice. "Be there in ten?" He asked.

"Sounds fine." I replied blankly, immediately disconnecting the call. I stepped away from the heat of my blankets and scurried to the bathroom to see if I looked fine.

I peered into the bathroom mirror, frowning. My hair peeked out of my hat, a tell-tale sign it was growing too long. Mom liked my hair long, though. I shook my head, opening the cabinet and hastily snatching a pair of orange-handled scissors. I made a few ugly chops and the excess hair was strewn on the tile of the bathroom floor. Unwilling to get the binder I wore around my chest, I dashed up the stairs and into my closet. The only sweater that would hide my chest was an ugly brownish Christmas mess. I heard a yell at the door and frowned, throwing it on.

"Craig!" Dad shouted from downstairs, his booming voice shaking the floor, "That McCormick kid is here; he's looking for you!"

I nodded and jumped down the stairs, forgetting to step foot on the last three. Kenny looked mildly impressed, smirking slightly before coming back up to my attic with me. The space was much more crowded with two people, and I'd no idea how we'd sleep tonight considering my twin bed is too small for even me alone. Kenny unhooded himself and discarded his parka, flopping on my bed and flicking on my cruddy television.

I'd yell at him, but Kenny's like that. He makes any place with a roof and bed his. I slinked on to the mass of covers with him, pushing him to one side.

"Craig, I don't know what you're complaining about; you've got the life!" Kenny said flamboyantly, grinning happily as he watched the TV. "Your own television, a space heater, no rats..." Kenny trailed off, looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked, flipping him off. He ignored me.

"Do you remember their names?" Kenny chided childishly, his straight teeth shining.

I huffed in annoyance. Kenny had named his rats when we had just entered the fifth grade. His family hit a surprisingly rough patch, even for them. Karen, his sister, wouldn't speak to him for nearly a month. Their dad had thought he'd ditch them for a chance at Vegas to make money and be rid of this hick town. But unfortunately, he lost everything they owned and had to work for two months to earn it back.

Kenny had felt alone, I guess. Stan and Kyle really couldn't be bothered to care. They had problems of their own. And hell if Eric Cartman have two shits about anything but he and his ugly gray cat. So he talked to the rats that lived in his room. He said they helped him vent, and after awhile he'd grown attached. He wouldn't even let the exterminator touch them.

"Martha, Geoff, Ann, and Lee." I said, rattling the names off without hesitation. Kenny had showed me his rats once and Martha bit me.

"They had another son, you know." Kenny added in, smiling wide. "Nice and healthy. He's got black dappled tawny fur, and he's beautiful." Kenny smiled blankly, twisting his head to the television. "Named him Russ."

And out of Absolutely nowhere, Kenny produced a small baby rodent about half the size of my palm. Russ, I assumed, crawled around my bedspread and sniffed curiously.

"Kenny, you can't have rats in my house!" I hissed. "Mom'll end me." I added for emphasis, watching as Russ gave me what appeared to be a hurt expression.

"He ain't going downstairs. We'll watch him." Kenny said curtly, resting his clear blue eyes on Russ. "I couldn't leave him in the cold."

I scoffed, ducking down to the edge of the bed so my chin rested on the mattress. Russ sniffed my nose in astonishment, then scurried two feet away. The little baby rat tottered up to me again, sticking his pointed snout on my skin again before crawling up my face and on to my hat. He curled up a little bit and I could only guess he'd chosen my head to sleep on.

"He likes you." Kenny said cheerfully, crawling over to me.

"Can you get him off?" I asked politely, flipping off Russ. I didn't like anything but my guinea pig, Stripe, up there.

Kenny shrugged, pulling up his hand to pick up his rat. But in some unlikely act, he had accidentally scared the animal, making it roll forward and fall down my loose shirt. I flushed deep red. Kenny, not knowing better, shoved his hand down into my sweater and shirt. His knuckles ran across my skin and I suppressed a shiver. The blonde grabbed for the rat, but he instead grasped something else.

I gasped in surprise and he went white in the face, yanking out his hand. Russ fell down the rest of the way, coming out the hem of my sweater and resting in my lap. Kenny looked shocked, which was strange for the perception-gifted boy. He swallowed hard then spoke up.

"Boys don't have boobs." He said dryly, eyes still wide. Kenny was an expert on the male/female anatomy. I daresay that he never even cracked open any other book besides a playboy to learn it.

I looked away, partly in shame, and mostly in embarrassment. My face was a pale red, and I felt like crying. Which was weird, because Tuckers don't cry. I bit my lip and rubbed my eye with my sleeve. Kenny knew now. He was going to tell those assholes and then the secret would be out.

I was not a boy.

From kindergarten, I had short hair and talked with a lower voice. I'd instantly classified as a male because of this. After all, that was what all the guys looked like. There was a little girl in class with the same name as me; Christina. I didn't know I was a girl though, and a guy having a girl name was something to laugh at back then. So I changed my name. Afterwards, I learned that I was, anatomy-wise, a female. But I still kept my hair short. I still played football and Videogames.

I never really was a girl ever. I was always the apathetic, dry-humored boy I am now. But now Kenny knew different.

"Sorry, that was rude." He apologized. I looked up at him. We never apologized. We always thought they were fruitless attempts at doing something. But instead of nothing, a small, shaky grin came to my face.

"But, Craig, hope you don't mind my asking; who are you?" I felt slightly happy that he had substituted 'what' with 'who'. My mom had asked me "What are you?" when I told her. I'd never felt more depressed. But that simple exchange of words. That made all the difference.

"I'm... I'm me." I said blankly, unable to piece together the words to explain. "I'm a girl biologically, I guess. But I'm a boy on the inside." I trailed off, wondering if Ken would just bolt off with Russ.

"So, you're telling me that my best friend has boobs?" He asked quizzically and eyebrow raised. Russ stirred in my lap, and I petted him gently with one hand.

"Yes...?" I said apprehensively.

"Fuck yes! That's fucking awesome, dude!" He said loudly, holding up his hands as if he were going to pat me down. I slapped him away.

"What?"

"Think about it, Craig." Kenny said, swelling with energy and grinning a grin that split his face in two. "You can be my walking handbook! You know, give me some pointers to picking up chicks and-"

"Ken, I'm still a guy." I snorted, annoyed. "Just not with a..."

"A dick?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah."

Kenny deflated slightly, but he was still smiling. "Can I?" He asked, holding up his 'grope' hands.

"Not a chance." I snapped back at him. "But I swear, Ken, if you tell a living soul about me, I'll skin you and feed you to Russ." I threatened, making Kenny smirk.

"Tough to get." He laughed. "Why can't I tell anyone? I'm sure the guys'll be cool with it."

"Don't!" I snarled. "I don't want to risk it." I looked down at the floor beneath me. Gnashing my teeth together, I brushed the little fringe of hair I still hat coming out of my hat away. "This has to stay between us, alright?"

Kenny glanced away as I looked up. He was blushing a little, perhaps at the prospect of me not exactly being the dude he thought I was. "Got it." Kenny muttered.

I sighed in relief, falling forward and hugging Kenny gently. "Fuck." I spat, glad he wasn't going to flap his jaw. Kenny peered under my hat, glancing at the godawful choppy mess within.

"We should fix this." He said, and I pulled back, eyes in confusion. I'd no idea what he was talking about until he motioned towards my hair. I flipped him off in annoyance.

"C'mon, Craigy, we should be able to do girl things now." Kenny purred, scooping Russ off my sweater and holding him up. "Look, he wants you to fix your hair too."

"You're an asshole." I snorted, standing up and retreating to the bathroom to retrieve my scissors. Kenny whooped in happiness as I bounded into the attic holding them. He snatched them out of my hands and planted me on the floor. A hand threw off my aviator's hat and Kenny ruffled the hair underneath. It was probably awful; I hadn't really been paying any attention when I hacked it off earlier.

Kenny began carefully snipping off my hair, little strands of ebony locks falling in my lap.

"So, Craig, any cute girls at school?" He asked blankly. I'll bet Kenny just did this so that he'd have an excuse to talk to me. I can't even go anywhere because he cut the back first and I can't see that side when I look in the mirror.

"No. Girls are still pretty gross whore-bags." I replied awkwardly. My hands clasped and unclasped in my hands.

"So you're asexual." Kenny snorted, as if the prospect of having no sex was an insult. He snipped off a long piece that lay uneven in the front.

"Not exactly." I muttered, rubbing my thumbs together. "I er- I like boys." I say finally, trying at a sheepish grin. I suppose that while I'd become a boy for the most part, my sexuality stayed the same. It was sort of weird, but my dad was all for it. As long as it'd be possible for him to have grandchildren under his last name.

"Dude." Kenny laughed, hacking off more hair. "Alright, any boys you find cute?"

I thought for a moment. Not on which boy I had an attraction to; no. On whether telling Kenny would be good or not. He's a leaky faucet when it comes to relationship gossip. Anything I tell him will no doubt plague the school before Monday's over. After mulling over it for a good five minutes I spook up again.

"Tweek's cute." I whispered, hoping it would pass his ears. But nothing passes Kenny.

"Twitch?" He asked incredulously. "I thought you had a thing for ravens." Kenny mused.

"You mean like Stan?" I nearly yelled, face contorted in disgust.

"Yeah. Like a love/hate. I thought that was why you always needed to beat him at everything, y'know? Romantic rivalry." Kenny said mindlessly. I flipped him off with both hands and smacked him lightly.

"Shut up, McCormick." I said with a ghost of a smile. It felt good to tell someone who I was. He ruffled my hair and finger-combed it.

"I'm thinking of washing it and conditioning it too..." Kenny mumbled, grinning. "Something your unrequited lover will enjoy..."

"Kenny, shut the fuck up and do my hair."


	2. Braces Are Cute

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK; NOBODY WOULD WATCH IT IF I DID**

**Hey, Fanfiction. This is my first serious chapter fic since forever, I mean, Jesus. And, I digress, this fic really is practically a huge dumpsite for all of my bottled up Headcannons. Because, well, making a chapter fic of Headcannon oneshots would probably annoy the hell out of all of you guys.**

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**CHAPTER TRACK: Still Into You - Paramore** **XXXXX**

Waking up is probably one of my least favorite things to do. However, it's around ten times worse being woken up by my mother's hysterical screams. And as I slipped out of my comfortable unconsciousness, the warm fluffy comforter wrapped around me, the only sound I could hear was my mom's high-pitched screech.

"Christina Ann Tucker, what the hell is _he_ doing with you?!" Mom screamed, her pointy nose scrunched up in anger. She glared at Kenny like he was a particularly ugly rock, something even a little child would stick his nose up at. Kenny rubbed the sleep from his eyes groggily, smiling slightly despite my mom.

"I think his name's Craig, ma'am." Kenny muttered politely, flashing me a brief smile. "In fact, he told me last night that he really hated it when people screwed up his name."

"I will call my child what I want to call it!" Mom snarled viciously, and I could picture daggers shooting from her eyes and impaling poor Kenny on my four-poster's headboard.

"Calm the fuck down, mom. We weren't having sex or anything." I spat, gesturing down at my fully clothed body. I guess in retrospect I could see why it would appear that way. My bed was far too small for us both, and neither one of us was willing to sleep on the ground. So half my body was over Kenny's, and his arm was subconsciously draped over my chest.

My hat lay discarded in the corner of the room, lying over Kenny's shoes. Without it, I felt unreasonably small and defenseless. Russ was carefully tucked under the bed, sleeping with the dust bunnies. I'm glad I hadn't given in to Kenny's pleas to let him sleep on the bed with us. With mom's eagle vision, she'd've zeroed in on the handsome rodent within a split second.

If my mother could look any angrier, there'd be a cartoon volcano above her red face. "Chris," she accentuated the name in spite, "You wait until your father hears of this." She grinned wildly, as if the very thought of me being punished was pure entertainment.

"You think he'll care?" I laughed humorlessly, showing off my crooked teeth. "He'd probably pat me on the back and take me condom shopping!" No kidding; dad said that when the time came, he'd take me out to get condoms and birth control pills.

"Don't you speak to me like that, young woman!" she shouted at me. Mom was someone who figured that if nobody would listen to her speak her thoughts, she'll yell them.

I gritted my teeth angrily, something I did so often that my teeth had become crooked, and flipped my mother off with both hands. Mom was just a rat. And like many of those creatures, had a very small brain and could not retain logic.

Mom was just a rat.

Mom was just a rat.

Mom was just a rat.

Repeating the words in my head, I felt a little better. That, and Kenny had firmly gripped my hand and was rubbing soft circles on it with the pad of his thumb. I wanted so badly to just lunge forward and strangle that woman. I'd never hit a lady, but I wanted to.

"Can you please leave, ma'am? I don't think Craig feels well." Kenny said in a forced polite voice. He gently sat up and ruffled my neat hair. "In fact, I think that it'd be doing well for you to stop breathing down his neck." He grinned cheekily. He was always being a smartass like this. It was one of the reasons that my mom hated his guts. Usually, however, he had his parka and hood on to muffle his words.

"Don't tell me what to do with my child!" Mom huffed, walking forward dangerously. Her feet kicked under my four-poster, and I heard a soft squeak. I could only assumed that she'd accidentally kicked Russ. Suddenly, her face contorted into pain, and she shrieked, jumping back and clutching her foot. There was a large red bite-mark on her heel, and drips of blood fell on to my floor. Her face was a pale white.

"Rats!" she screamed madly. "You've brought your filthy rats in the house, haven't you?" she pointed a crooked finger at Kenny.

Despite very much resembling the rodent, mom couldn't stand rats. They scared the life out of her, and she was constantly buying all kinds of mouse traps and poison to kill any that might stray inside the house. They never worked, however, because dad would disarm them or throw them away not an hour after they were placed. He couldn't bear to kill a breathing creature. I could remember placing beet roots around the house because they resembled a rat so much, and mom jumped every time.

"Get out!" She yelled, but whether to Kenny, Russ, or I, I couldn't tell. As if reading my mind, she added, "All of you, out!"

Kenny hopped off the bed and coaxed Russ out quickly, stuffing the creature in his pocket and throwing on his parka lopsidedly. I smashed my blue hat atop my head and bolted, jumping into a pair of slippers before racing out the door. The brisk mountain air stung my cheeks, and the snow assaulted my eyes. Kenny stumbled out the door awkwardly, grinning from ear to ear. He loved seeing my mom pissed. It was the funniest thing in the world for him to see her pull back her lip in distaste and scrunch up her nose.

We paused to catch our breath for a moment, and Kenny gave a breathless sort of cackle.

"That was good." He grinned, finger-combing his floppy blonde hair. "Never seen her quite so red before."

"I have." I smirked. "The day I walked in my house with no hair and told her I was a boy. You'd've laughed your ass off." I let my smile fall and flipped off my house. Kenny patted my back roughly and grinned.

Ken and I were different people around to each other. Usually, Kenny was a perverted asshole whose jaw flapped constantly without anything interesting coming out. And typically, I was a stoic jerk with my middle finger being the only thing I had to show. Around each other, though, he was more reserved and serious, and I was talkative and loose. Funny how it worked like that.

We wordlessly walked down the main road of South Park, flipping off anyone staring at us because we were wearing pajamas. There wasn't much to do; South Park was made of the bare minimums. Kenny suggested bowling before I flipped him off and reminded him that I hated bowling, and I mentioned the mall before Kenny reminded me that he was poor.

"Let's go to Tweak's Coffee. I think Tweek is working today." I said calmly, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"Aw," Kenny gushed, "You're so cute, Craig." He promptly began skipping down the road (I'm not kidding) and beckoned for me to follow. "Come on, Craig! We'll get to Tweak's faster if we go like this!" he said flamboyantly, grinning a grin that split his face in two. I flipped him off and jogged next to him. I don't care if my life depended on it; I was not going to skip.

Tweak's Coffee was the only café in South Park besides Benny's. It was a brown-brick building with a bright green neon sign over the top. Glass doors and metallic window panes were placed on the walls, and it looked like it was taken straight from a 60's sitcom. This would make sense, considering Tweek's parents were one of South Park's oldest residents. In fact, Tweek's dad still had his old 60's Mustang parked in his driveway.

Before I even walked to the double-doors, Kenny grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. I looked back at him in annoyance.

"What the hell, Ken?" I snapped, crossing my arms indignantly. He gave me a lopsided grin and passed me his ratty orange parka.

"You aren't wearing a sweater." He pointed out, eyes trained on my chest. I flushed furiously and snatched up his coat, throwing it on and zipping it up. Goddamn boobs. If I had the money, I'd get rid of you in a heartbeat.

I pushed my way inside the store, hearing the pleasant ring of the bell that accompanied the door. The interior of the coffee shop even reminded me of the golden days. It had a pristine tile floor and bright green booths and tables. Ugly-looking paintings covered the walls, each one of them painted by Tweek himself. He was something of an awful artist, but he still enjoyed it. Said boy was mopping up a spill that he probably created by a table. An angry customer was berating him, and it looked like he was going to start crying any second now.

Tweek's the only boy who cried almost as much as Clyde Donovan, my best friend. It got a little annoying, but I could deal. At least he didn't cry about the fucking Taco Bell getting his order wrong.

I waited patiently as Tweek mopped up his mess and apologized to the businessman. The guy snorted, "What a waste of good clothing. Knew I should've of gone somewhere where the staff isn't coked up." He spat at the poor blonde, who scurried behind the counter and made a complicated drink in seconds. He carefully handed it back to the man, head down as he handed him the coffee.

"S-Sorry, sir," he stuttered weakly. "It'll b-be on the h-house." He wandered away, hanging his head as he shuffled awkwardly behind the counter, not noticing me or Kenny.

I decidedly sauntered up to the counter and leaned against it. Tweek was at attention immediately, forcing a polite smile.

"Welcome to Tweak's; may I get you anything?" He said without his squeaky voice quivering or stuttering. That was only because he says it almost a hundred times a day and has mastered it to perfection. I grinned at his oblivious face as he stared at my orange coat.

"No." I said, smiling as he began to realize who he's speaking to.

"Craig!" He grinned wide. Once he noticed my street-rat of a friend, he grinned wider. "Kenny!" Tweek isn't very used to company while he works. He isn't really a popular kid to begin with, and I don't bother to talk to him on Saturdays because I'm typically sleeping. "W-what are you t-two doing this early?" he questioned.

"Mom kicked us out because Kenny brought his rat into my house." I snorted, watching a bashful grin go across Kenny's elfish face. He patted his pocket gently and Russ poked his little nose out.

"Wanna meet him? He's another son of Martha's." Kenny asked cheerfully. "He's got the most handsome tawny fur." He added, swelling with pride as he spoke of his pet. If there's one thing I know about Kenny, it's that he has a crazy amount of pride for anything that depends on him. He's got that crazy pride for his little sister, his friends, and his rats. Any accomplishment of theirs is an accomplishment of his.

"Yeah!" Tweek said in excitement before sighing and frowning slightly. "But t-there can't be a-any r-rodents in the s-shop. I don't g-get off work until two." Tweek surprisingly loved Kenny's rats. He had a love for all animals, actually. His parents constantly checked his drawers and closets because he'd been caught hiding rabbits and once even a gigantic snake in there. I think he liked them because animals were creatures that depended on him.

Kenny gently pushed Russ down into his pocket, grinning bashfully. He tugged his white-cotton shirt down.

"C-Craig?" Tweek glanced at me with confusion etched across his small face. He had features that matched the tacky gold statues of cherubs around the house. small and childish, with light freckles dotting his long, crooked nose. Sort of like one of those little cherubs got beaten in the face with a golf club.

"Yeah?" I asked, the monotone making me sound a little bit threatening.

"I j-just realized; w-why are you w-wearing Kenny's c-coat?" He stuttered out. I gave him a look of incredulously and he stuttered back. "S-SORRY PLEASE DON'T B-BE MAD AT ME!" He shrieked in worry, yanking on his disheveled blonde hair.

"Calm down, Spaz." I said lightheartedly, slapping Tweek's arm. "I'm not going to be mad, now stop yanking on your hair or you'll go bald."

Tweek looked at me wide-eyed. He immediately pulled his hands away, clasping them together to keep from yanking out any more hair. He twitched slightly.

"Anyways, when mom kicked us out, I forgot to grab a sweater and Kenny offered me his." I lied, my face so deadpan and my voice so monotone that even the best psychologists wouldn't be able to decipher it. Lying is a skill that I'd culminated into an art over the years. I even manage to fool myself sometimes.

I often lie to myself, too. I lie when I say that I don't give two shits about my mother. I lie when I say I wished that she'd just drop dead. I lie when I say that it doesn't matter that I'll never get the guy. I lie all the time. And I figure that lying is just as much to my life as telling the truth is. After all, I'd been lying to keep my gender on the DL since forever.

"Oh." Tweek said in a cheerful voice. Not cheerful as in a kid eating his favorite candy. Cheerful as in that annoying PTA obsessed mother who gives out peanut butter crackers to kids with peanut allergies and still manages to smile away suspicion. Due to the slight tilt of his head and his narrowed eyes, I knew he didn't completely believe me. But he was willing to buy it for now.

"So," Kenny intervened, ready to bend the conversation away from my lie. "Who's that asshole that called you a crack addict? I can rough him up a little if you want me too." He grinned cheekily and did some mock-boxing in the air.

"That's Mr. Trotting." Tweek said calmly, glowing at the businessman malevolently, as if he wanted to get him another coffee on the house purely for the chance to spill the scalding liquid on his suit again. "He c-comes in here e-e-very o-other day; always o-orders the same t-thing. H-he's a pretty boastful b-b-bastard, too." Tweek said, the swear coming off his tongue oddly.

"Sounds pleasant." Kenny smirked, staring at Mr. Trotting. Now that I look closer, he does resemble a horse. He has a long face, sad bulging eyes, and clean graying hair swept over to one side of his head. His limbs are short and stocky, leading to a fat beer-belly.

"That's not a-all." Tweek spat, obviously beginning to get riled up. "H-he comes in here, i-insults me, c-c-complains, shoves his g-goddamned beliefs down my t-throat, and he's just-" Tweek shook his head angrily, letting out an annoyed growling noise. "I mean, I w-was raised to have an o-o-open mind, but the s-shit this g-guy says..."

"Don't worry, Tweekie." The cocky blonde wrapped an arm over Tweek's neck loosely, leaning over the counter. "Uncle Ken will take care of everything; don't you worry none." Kenny said slyly, earning a look of annoyance from Tweek.

"Don't!" Tweek began to say, but it was too late. King Kenny moves for no man.

Ken moseyed over to the table where Mr. Trotting was languidly scanning the newspaper. He leaned over casually and smiled at the man. "Don't mind my asking," Kenny said in a polite voice that made me want to strangle him, "But what is that captivating article you're reading?"

Mr. Trotting cautiously pulled his snout over the edge of his paper, scrutinizing Kenny's charming blue eyes. He eventually decided that Kenny was no threat or annoyance, and laid the paper down on the table. "Well, son, see here?" he said in that curt voice, "Those damn Chinese are trying to cheat us good American folk out of millions of dollars..." he rambled on, pointing to some things and making wild gestures at others. He shook his long face slowly.

"Fascinating." Kenny said in a voice faker than a prostitute's boobs. He gave the man a forced smile and patted him on the back. Mr. Trotting gave Kenny a pleased smirk. "Here, son." he said, giving Kenny ten dollars. "For being a decent boy, eh? Not very many of those out there anymore." The man spent another good ten minutes talking to Kenny about how our generation was "Going to Hell in a hand basket."

Kenny bid the man farewell and walked back to us with a triumphant smirk. He slapped the ten dollars on the table and grinned from ear-to-ear. "Told you I'd take care of it." He said arrogantly, pushing the crumpled bill to Tweek, who looked flabbergasted.

"I can't t-take this, Ken..." Tweek muttered bashfully, pushing it back. "He g-gave it to you..."

"Think of it as an early..." He paused and leaned over to me. "Craig." He whispered into my ear, "Is it closer to Tweek's birthday or Christmas?"

I looked at him blankly. "S'closer to Christmas, douche. Tweek just had his birthday a month ago."

Kenny thanked me and looked back at the twitchy boy. "Think of it as an early Christmas present." Ken flashed the barista a dazzling smile. Of course, Kenny's teeth were a little yellow because his family spent the majority of their welfare money on beer instead of toiletries.

Tweek gave him a closed-lip gin. Tweek used to gnash his teeth much worse than me when we were little. After our fight during the third grade, he suddenly stopped, but they were destroyed beyond repair. He's been wearing bulky metal braces since he was twelve, and he brushes obsessively, but to no avail.

I think he's kind of insecure about his braces, because he hasn't smiled with his teeth shown for at least four years.

I wish he'd smile without being so self-conscious. I think braces are cute.

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**_Thanks Loads to:_**

**_AwesomeSpellsPrussia, Style Marshlovski, and LunallenaWrwolf01 for their awesome reviews!_ **


	3. To Hear Your Voice

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Guess who has purple streaks in her hair? Woot woot! Mom's gonna have a bitch-fit when she sees me. Anyways, to explain the slightly unorthodox beginning, I have a sort of inclination to show both sides of the fence, yeah? Like, I need to prove that every action has a motive. Craig's mother really does love him, but she hates what he's become. Also, before someone flags my profile as offensive, I do not have Anything against religion. Lots of fluff and gayness in this chapter, I think.**

**And yeah; this story is basically a Headcannon dump-site with a plot.**

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_Chapter track: Alien- Your Favorite Martian _

"Nora, sweetie, where's Craig?" Thomas Tucker slouched into the comfy cushions of the couch, yawning. Work for him had been exceptionally brutal, and he'd taken the rest of the night to lone it at the bar. Now, seeing the house empty with only his wife cooking some mystery meat, he was worried. Did Craig need him while he was with his friends, drinking pints?

"Away." His wife snapped curtly.

Thomas' face contorted into one of worry, his brow furrowing. "Away where?"

Nora Tucker pulled her up her lip, the pearly white teeth beneath peeking out. Why was Thomas even worried about it? The monster? Why couldn't he just come home and ask what was for dinner, or compliment her new blouse? Why was it always about that ungodly_ thing_? "He's just away, Thomas. With that mixer, the McCormick boy."

"Kenny?" Thomas asked, sighing in relief. "Good, he's a nice lad."

"Nice?" Nora asked incredulously. "That damned boy brought his filthy rats in the house and it bit me, Thomas!"

Thomas looked away indifferently. "And Ruby." He added, "Where's she?" Ruby was their only daughter after Craig announced his self-identity. She was a quiet young girl, who liked to talk only to her diary, which was shut and locked in her dresser underneath all of her socks. Nora liked to keep her as far away from Craig as possible.

"She's in her room, like she always is. Honestly, that thing," _'That Thing'_ referring to Craig because Nora refused to call him by name whenever possible, "It's getting to my little baby, Tommy. She hasn't talked to me all week, except to ask if she could dye her hair."

"I think she should be able to dye it." Thomas said. "After all, if we don't let her she'll just be more determined." he leaned back lazily.

"Well I think that she'll look like a rebellious little punk." Nora said with burning conviction.

"Whatever, hon. Whatever makes you happy." Thomas groaned, unwilling to argue. He laid back on the couch and closed his bleary eyes, tired. He should've stayed home. He knew it, and guilt broiled up in his stomach.

"Hon, before you go to sleep, I called a friend to come over tonight. I'll wake you an hour or so before he comes over, alright?" Nora said sweetly, grabbing a fluffy pink blanket from the chair in the corner of the room. She draped it over Thomas, hearing him grunt in thanks. Soon, Craig would be normal again. Soon, they'd all be a family again. And even if they couldn't understand now, they'd know it would all be for the best.

It was always for the best.

* * *

I rubbed my hands together, breathing into them. If I was cold, I couldn't imagine how Kenny was feeling. The confident blonde didn't even shiver though, instead puffing his chest out with pride as Tweek let Russ climb all over him. The rat's fur shone nicely in the sunlight, and Tweek was more than happy to play with him on his break. Russ crawled under the hem of Tweek's sweater, and Tweek shrieked in childish enjoyment.

"He's r-really cold!" Tweek laughed, leaning against the brick building. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be Russ, hidden away and pressing against Tweek's pale skin for warmth. I blushed a little, glad that the cold was an excuse for the pink on my cheeks.

"Smart too, isn't he? Going under a shirt for warmth; that's my boy!" Kenny gushed happily. His elf-like face was drawn in a big grin.

"Yeah," I smirked, "Russ can get past layers of clothing faster than you."

"Asshole." Kenny said without thinking.

"Whore." I retorted back, grinning. I flipped him off, still looking at Tweek. He was squirming about, his back twisting like a slinky as he laughed. a small buldge in his shirt moved around wildly, and I could only assume that Russ was running amok in Tweek's shirt; making himself comfortable.

"I prefer the term 'Sexual Deviant'." Kenny's eyes were trained on Tweek as well as mine. He slithered up to the giggling blonde and pressed his lips to the shell of Tweek's ear. "Ain't that right, Tweek?" he said in a low, breathy voice. Tweek yelped, but didn't say anything.

Kenny was one of those kids that was just a naturally touchy person. Most of us had learned to tolerate his antics. He thrived on hugs, hand-holding, kissing, and any other human interaction otherwise perceived as intimate. He could kiss Tweek right now and I'd not even bat an eyelash (despite probably being jealous) because that was just what Kenny did.

"_Mmm_- y-yeah." Tweek bit his lower lip. He blinked nervously as Kenny hugged him. He still wasn't one-hundred percent comfortable with Ken's affection.

"You _are_ warm..." Kenny smiled happily. I flipped him off, but I was grinning too.

Tweek pushed Kenny off and fished Russ out of his shirt. The handsome rodent squeaked in protest, flailing his little paws about. "I've got to g-g-go b-back to my s-shift." He muttered. "D-dad will have m-my head if he f-finds out that I w-was taking a break."

"Already?" Kenny whined, carefully putting Russ in his front pocket.

Tweek grinned sheepishly, nodding. He waved us goodbye and retreated back into the coffee shop, shivering. Kenny nudged me gently, making a heart with his fingers. I punched him, and if only to add salt to the wound, I flipped him off, too.

Me and Ken didn't do much else for the next three hours besides causing trouble. People in this town knew to look out for us when we were together. Kenny pickpocketed candy, I set off fire alarms, and we both ran like hell down the middle of the street, barely dodging the passing cars on either side of us. We knocked down all the garbage cans down one side of the street, then came back to get the other side.

I did notice something, though. Maybe it was subconsciously, but Kenny was acting differently around me; more careful and softly. No doubt it was because he'd learned my secret. He gave me apprehensive glances when the idea of danger arose, he ran slower, and he held my arm tightly as we ran through the streets to keep me from getting run over. I felt like a deadweight. We were no longer as free and uncaring as we had been only a while ago. We were rebels with limits.

I remember in the third grade, when the biggest trouble in my life was what to do during recess, our class had wondered who the biggest troublemaker was. The two contenders were Tweek and I.

Tweek really wasn't a troublemaker; he just got yelled at a lot because he never paid attention and we couldn't go three minutes without one of his obnoxious outbursts of 'Ngh' or 'Gah!' or 'Oh Sweet baby Jesus!'. I, on the other hand, was a huge troublemaker. I shot spitballs at the girls and pulled practical pranks on the teacher. One time I had settled a pin on his seat, but I had put it in the middle of the seat instead of on the side. It didn't really have any target, per say, so it sort of just hung there loosely all day.

Kenny wasn't a real big troublemaker, but that was only because he hid playboys in his books and was too busy 'reading' to make chaos.

I remember the whole ordeal causing a huge fight between me and my twitchy best friend, and receiving a shiner and a broken arm. The biggest troublemaker, however, was never found. What all my classmates happened to look over was the possibility that the biggest troublemaker could be a combination of two people. Around one another, Ken and I were worse than a twister ripping through the land. Whenever we were talking, people would give us nervous glances as if we had hexed their lunch.

People liked to perceive me as a no-nonsense, boring, stay-inside kid, which couldn't be further from the truth. Just because I threw a tantrum about being shipped off to Peru and being jammed in the middle of a world-saving prophecy, suddenly I'm a stick in the mud. Causing chaos was fun; when people glared at me knowingly, I wasn't ignored like I was at home. It was my own way of grasping the spotlight and making it mine.

Sort of like why Tweek made those indescribable noises. He wasn't deliberately trying to cause a disturbance. He was only vying for the attention of others. He was afraid of being forgotten, and that was his way of reminding himself that he was still there. Or maybe I'm over analyzing. I do that a lot.

By time it was five, I was hungry. Kenny and I had our fill of candy, but that really isn't a substitute for a meal. Not exactly dentist recommended, either.

"Want to have dinner with us, Craig?" Kenny asked politely, although I knew it'd be rude to say yes. Kenny's family abused their welfare on beer and cigarettes, they usually never had a single square meal. Their idea of fine dining was waffles and syrup. Kenny split his meals with his sister already; I didn't want him to have to divide it even more.

I shook my head, biting the inside of my lip. Kenny's pride forced him to refuse any offer for food, clothing, money, anything that he couldn't supply himself. I knew for a fact that he was too skinny for his own health; his white shirt hung loosely off his shoulders, and under it, each of his ribs showed when he breathed in. I asked anyways, like everyone always did.

"If you'd rather eat with us, I wouldn't mind." I said in a stoic voice, inspecting the brief flash of what I could only describe as anger flash through his bright blue eyes.

"No thanks, Craig. I can do without help, you know." He snapped, defensive of his current state.

"I know, I know. You're a big boy now, Ken." I smiled a little bit, watching as Kenny smirked and slugged my arm in a friendly way. I quickly peeled Kenny's coat off my shoulders, passing it to him. He accepted it with a nod.

"You'll be good with your mom 'n all?" He asked, voice laden with care and nervousness. Kenny cared way to much- it made me feel guilty for not retaliating the motherly affection.

"Yeah; it'll be okay. Dad's home tonight." I said. Frowning and crossing my arms because of the cold, I added, "What about you?"

Kenny seemed touched by my concern, he grinned and patted me on the back gently. "Yeah, I'll be fine. See you at school?"

"If you aren't dead." I joked. Kenny laughed lightheartedly and bid me farewell, both of us taking separate turns to go home.

-Line-Break-

I knew something was very, very wrong when I stepped through the front door. Looking at the scene in front of me, unfolded like a picture pop-up book, I wanted to run back and take Kenny up on his offer. Mom and Dad were sitting in the living room, dad looking stiff and rigid. Mom's arms were crossed, and an ugly scowl crossed her face.

"Have a seat, Chris." Mom commanded me, voice taut like a wire. She gestured to the chair adjacent to the couch. I gave dad an uneasy look, and he breathed out resignedly, mouthing the word, "Go".

I was about to retort, but my dad's expression was enough for me to stay quiet. He looked like he was strained someway. I felt bad; this was probably my fault. It was always my fault. Silently, I took off my shoes and slipped over to the chair, slumping down in it. I noticed a man sitting on the other armchair, someone who I hadn't noticed until he was staring me straight in the eye. I knew him, though. I had only seen him a few hours ago. He had deep gray eyes and graying hair, with a horse-like face.

"I'd like you to meet my friend, William Trotting." Mom introduced him. Mr. Trotting gave me a charming grin and threw out his hand. I shook it warily, my eyes not daring to look down. I bit my lip nervously, glancing at my mother and father with suspicion.

"Hello, Chris." Trotting said in a sweet, soft spoken voice. It was nothing like the brash, redneck drawl he had used in the coffee shop when he was berating my best friend. I was sure that he was putting up some sort of wall; a defensive front. He gave me a knowing look that suggested he knew that I didn't believe him one bit.

"Uh- My name's Craig, sir." I stammered politely, trying not to show my obvious distrust. It wasn't difficult to act like I was a mild-tempered boy; acting was just an acceptable form of lying. I knew Trotting didn't believe my polite yet forced smile. No doubt mom had told him about all sorts of the trouble I'd caused.

"Is it now? Sorry, my fault entirely." Trotting apologized, retracting his hand and clasping them together. I noticed offhandedly that his hands were scrapped up and calloused, like he did lots of heavy work. Dad's hands were like that.

"It's alright." I said in the fakest voice I could muster up. My mother looked pleased, her features drawn into something of a calm half-smile. Dad sent me an approving nod, his face still dark and strained. It looked like he was a brittle wooden doll instead of a person. I couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

"Now, Craig, your mother called me over because she's very worried about you." He said in an impressive tone. I figured he was a psychologist of some sort. Made sense how his clothing was so pristine and crisp. With all the problems that circulated within South Park, I figured that he probably got enough business to accumulate a small fortune.

"I-" I began before he cut me off rudely.

"I've been assessed of the situation." He informed me before I had a chance to chew mom out a good one. "I'd very much like to hear why you've rejected the body God has granted you with, son." He gave me a sort of sneer that lasted a split-second. Long enough for me to comprehend, but not long enough for my father to notice.

"I haven't rejected anything." I said calmly, trying my hardest to keep my arms crossed as not to reach out and wrap my hands around his fat neck. I couldn't let anger get the best of me this time. Based on that promiscuous little shit-eating grin he gave me, I could tell that was just what he wanted. I wasn't going to give that man anything. I didn't even let a flash of anger pass my stoic blue eyes. My gut tugged unpleasantly, like it always did when I suppressed my anger.

"Oh, but you did." Trotting said, dropping his façade to let me see his true spectrum. "You did the second you claimed to be a boy, Craig. You're going through not more than a very persistent ailment." I breathed in deep.

"I think you're mistaken, sir." I said in the most calm voice I could force. It still sounded like it was said through grit teeth, however. "I feel perfectly healthy. Take my temperature; you'll see." I could've sworn Trotting muttered the word, "Smartass", under his breath.

"Craig, son, this is a very different disease. It isn't something that makes you sick, in fact, many folks find it completely safe and not at all harmful. But that's where they're wrong. This is a disease so sinister, many have never been saved." Trotting gave me a look of concern, though whether it was genuine or not slipped past me. "But that's why your mother called me. We're only here to help."

"Thanks, I guess." I muttered out. "So, what's this disease called again?"

"It's called sin, Craig." Trotting said with an apathetic glance at my mother. "And like smoking, it's affecting those around you just as much as it's affecting you." I had to stifle a snort, because that 'Sin' was only perturbing my mother.

"So, let me get this straight, I'm fine? Thanks, mom, I feel so much better. Can I leave now?" I said in quick succession. Mom puffed out air in annoyance and let me escape. Before I could retreat up to the attic, however, she snatched up my arm. Her fingernails bit into my skin.

"We aren't done with this Craig." she warned me with a foreboding look. "And I don't want to see you hanging around that McCormick kid; he's a troublemaker." I laughed humorlessly at this because it was only when we were together that any trouble was caused; alone we were relatively harmless.

I stalked away to my room, slamming the door as audibly as possible and throwing myself on my bed, slicking on the television. A Red Racer re-run was playing. Red Racer was one of my favorite shows, even though it stopped in the middle of the fourth season because the episodes were repetitive and boring.

I still liked watching it though; I liked repetitive and boring things. They were safe enough, because I didn't need to face the dynamic change that was brought with story-arcs and plot-twists. The main character, Red, was a knight-in-shining-armor hero, the guy that was charming, funny, handsome, brave; everything I wanted to be. He was the guy that could be in last place in the Indiana 500 and make his way to first on the last lap.

When I was in the fifth grade, we all had to choose a role-model in our lives that was our hero and write about them. Lots of the kids chose their parents or brothers. I remember Marsh chose his sister, despite constantly moaning and groaning that she shoved him around a lot. Kenny chose Mysterion, a vigilante that kept the streets of South Park safe in the older days. He shows up sometimes still, I'd seen a strange figure dashing along the streets at night. Strangely enough, it feels like that figure is watching over me sometimes.

But I digress.

Instead of my mom, or my dad, I chose that person who was my hero; Red racer. I poured my heart out into that assignment; I wrote something of one-thousand words. But when I turned it in, my teacher yelled at me for being a shallow-minded ingrate. I remember her berating me for at least an hour, "Does that Red Racer put a roof over your head? Does he feed you? Thought not, you filthy little brat."

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that my parents weren't ever heroes to me. My dad was much more of a role-model like my mother, but he was always on her side, too afraid to anger her or upset her. I could respect his care for her, but I couldn't stand it at the same time. I wasn't ever going to bend over backwards for nobody, no matter how much I loved them.

I soon got bored of the flashing colors on my retro television and switched it off, snatching up my cellphone. I flicked through my contacts, an impressive list of eight people. Three of which didn't even count, though, because they were family. I dialed Tweek's number blindly and pressed the phone receiver to my ear.

It rang once before I heard the voice I'd grown fond of over the years answer.

"H-hello?' He asked tentatively. Tweek really didn't like talking over the phone because he couldn't see the face of the person he was talking too. It bothered him not being able to see the eyes and expression of people because he never had a hint as to what they were thinking.

"Hey, small fry." I said cheerfully, using the nickname Kenny had coined on him a long while ago. Tweek utterly hated it, and it was always funny watching something as simple as a nickname get such a rise out of him.

"C-craig! I t-told you not to c-call me that!" Tweek whined over the receiver, and I let out a soft chuckle.

"Alright, sorry." I said, not really sorry at all. "What's up?"

"Nothing." Tweek replied back, and I could hear his smile resonate throughout my mind. "Y-you?"

"Not very much." I said, leaning back and closing my eyes in content. Tweek, even if he wasn't with me, had that calming effect. It was an addictive sort of thing, to be completely calm. Enjoyable to the point where I could manage to humor a smile into crossing my face. The absence of food in my stomach didn't bother me anymore.

"Then why're you c-calling me?" short pause, "O-oh my god, t-that was so r-r-rude- I'm _s-so_ sorry, please don't be m-mad! _Sorrysorrysorry_!" Tweek rambled pointlessly.

"S'okay, Small fry; I ain't mad. I called because I just wanted to talk." I grinned even though I knew he couldn't see it.

"A-about what?" Tweek asked curiously.

_'Whatever gets you to talk, because I like your voice.'_ I thought. It was too gay of a thought to say, though, so I just replied: "Whatever you want." Tweek was blurting out something about the pressure of choosing a topic that would entice both speaking and listening parties, but I wasn't really bothered by his indecisiveness. I'd gotten him on a tangent, and the only sound I heard in my silent room was his voice.

* * *

**Epic Thanks to SouthParkaholic, Style Marshlovski, AwesomeSpellsPrussia, deathNspikes, and LunallenaWrwolf01 for their awesome reviews! I hope you all know that I appreciate you all soo much, like that little email notification ding is one of my favorite sounds because of you awesome folks.**


	4. Lying Makes it Worth it

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Hey, Fanfiction... I don't want to sound like a conceited asshole but... I SO FUCKING CALLED IT! In the new episode, '****_Black Friday_****', Kenny has a rat on his shoulder and he pets it and plays with it during the episode, ****_JUST LIKE RUSS_****. He even looks like Kenny's rat in this! ASDFGHJKL. Also, my tumblr was blowing up because I follow the South Park tag, and there were two types of tags that night; Generic responses to the episode, and CREEK FEELS. I have never been so proud of my fandom. It's my new headcannon that Tweek and Craig will one day get married and their love-child shall be a PS4. **

**I'm done. Anyways, I like this chapter because it really sort of sets the mood for the fic. Ruby is actually one of my favorite forgotten characters.**

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_Chapter Track: Ruby- The Kaiser Chiefs_

I knew my mom was serious about the ordeal being far from over. She hardly joked at all, save for a snide remark about gossip or Dr. Phil. Dad told me that there was once a time that Mom was a stupidly fun lady- she was a person who was never alone, because she had abundant funny and random thoughts to keep her company. The only evidence of so much of a smile to have ever crossed her rodent-like face is a bunch of aged laugh-lines around her eyes.

I had jolted awake fairly early on Monday, thanks to a nightmare. I wasn't quite sure what it was about. In the back of my mind, it was playing like a vintage movie strip, starting to fade even seconds as I awoke. I couldn't even put the experience into words, but I knew what was going on. Kind of like when you're little, trying to comprehend a child's picture book before you can read.

My head was pounding faintly, and a uncomfortable cold sweat layered my pale skin. I cupped my face and rubbed my eyes, shedding away the sleep still trapped in them. Awake and still panting a little, I picked myself up and crawled down the stairs. I avoided the last three, opting to jump simply because they creaked loudly and risking a leap would have a less likely chance of waking the 'rents. My socks hit the wooded floor from the stairs to the door and I slipped, clutching onto the stair rail to keep from ramming my head against the floor.

"Who's there?" I heard the voice, barely above a whisper. Looking up, I could see that our little kitchen was dimly illuminated by what I could only guess to be the refrigerator light. A small petite shadow quivered a little as I grunted and stood up.

"Jus' me," I said quietly, even the low tone of my voice staggeringly loud in the stark quietness. The figure of my kid sister slumped in relief.

"Couldn't sleep either?" She asked quietly, fishing into the fridge for the milk. She set the milk on the counter and pulled two jars, one filled with peanut butter and the other with jelly. A tub of butter sat on the counter. I shook my head and gingerly walked over, careful not to give into my tendency to stamp my feet in my gait.

"Get the bread, Craig," Ruby ordered me, pointing to the top of the fridge where the wheat bread was. I personally thought that it was a crime; having no white bread in the house. Health wasn't really my top priority, if the small amount of fat on my stomach had anything to say about it. The only reason I wasn't as fat as Eric Cartman was because South Park was the kind of place you could get a rigorous workout in walking to your car due to the belligerent wind and snow.

I stood up on my toes and reached out, snatching the bread and bringing it down. I gently handed it to my little sister before helping her unjar the peanut butter. Usually, if we woke up in the middle of the night, the most obvious remedy was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some milk. And for some reason, both of us had taken an odd liking to dumping an adequate amount of butter to our sandwiches.

"Put on some extra jelly," I muttered, pouring our drinks. Ruby nodded and flipped me off for telling her what to do. She was only thirteen this year, and she was already stressing that teenage tendency to be short-tempered; along with vying to be an independent person.

Most of the time she locked herself in her room and blasted junky pop music through her headphones. Sometimes she had them up so loudly, I could clearly hear the song from out in the hallway. It was a wonder Ruby hadn't gone deaf by now. I'd decided to leave her alone about it; we'd both realized that alone time wasn't something to be intruded upon. There was an unspoken rule between us to knock and gain admission into each other's rooms after Ruby had uncovered one of the many skeletons in my closet.

I wouldn't tell you what, exactly, because what she caught me doing was nothing less than unprintable and utterly humiliating. However, I will tell you that it involved me, a few unsavory music tracks on my iPod, and a fuzzy yellow pillow. It was her fuzzy yellow pillow. It's still in my room, actually, because Ruby doesn't want to touch it after what she seen. Thankfully enough, though, she didn't tell a soul about it.

"Why're you up?" Ruby asked, patting a huge amount of jelly onto my sandwich. Her big amber eyes glinted in the low light of the fridge.

"I could be asking you the same question," I replied, carefully wedging the milk back in the fridge between a few other things. I took a small sip of my milk as Ruby handed me my sandwich.

"I asked you first," She retorted, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Nightmare," I said simply, taking a bite out of my sandwich. I grinned a little and a weird sound resonated from the back of my throat because _god_, whether I knew it or not, I needed that sandwich so badly. I licked my lips and almost forgot to breathe as I took another mouthful. "Na' oo haf foo tell me why yor uh so laye."

I swallowed my food down and tried again. "Now you have to tell me why you're up so late."

Ruby shrugged, giving me a blank face, "I don't know; just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep," she said simply, chewing half-heartedly on her sandwich.

"Oh."

My sandwich was gone within seconds, leaving me to suck at my fingertips longingly as I shoved the peanut butter and jelly in the fridge. I downed my milk like a monster, and threw the empty glass in the sink. I yawned a little, the home remedy for insomnia already kicking in. Wiping a few strands of hair to one side of my face, I patiently waited for Ruby to finish.

"Craig, I just noticed," She said, pointing to my head, "Your hair looks different." She said, smiling a little bit.

"So?"

"I like it," She said with an authoritative voice, as if I had been waiting my whole life for her verdict. "It looks neat." She broke out into a monstrous yawn and leaned her head on the table, thick auburn hair acting as a curtain. It covered her face, but I knew she was already drifting to sleep.

I sighed and threw her over my shoulder, holding her firm as I pushed our chairs in and walked to the staircase. God, Ruby was light. I hadn't realized how small she was, especially since us Tuckers were typically giant beasts. I heard her snore lightly as I hauled her up the stairs, careful not to drop her on the way. Barging into her room, I looked about. It had been an awful long time since I'd seen it and it had changed a lot.

The walls were their same light pink, and the floor was still a cream colored carpet, but several drawings and posters of popular boy bands had replaced the originally unmarred surface. The floor was a mess of nail polish, makeup, and marker stains. The room was still as small as ever, though, and I found myself slightly claustrophobic standing up.

I gently placed Ruby on the bed and fixed her covers up for her. She tugged on me hard and since I wasn't in a great mood to fight, I fell into the mattress space next to her.

"I don't want you to go away," Ruby murmured out, voice slurring as she was half asleep. She still had a strong grip on my shirt.

I gave her a bewildered expression, no longer in immediate danger of falling asleep. "Why would I go away?" I asked calmly as I could, not caring that Ruby's nails were starting to dig into my skin through the thin cotton fabric. Ruby didn't respond for a little bit. Then she managed to speak up, each word dragging out.

"Mom... Mom said she was gonna split us up. Unless..." Ruby managed to drift off again. I shook her gently, trying not to hurt her or agitate her although my mind was urging me to shake her as hard as I could.

"Unless what? C'mon, kid, Unless what?" I begged quietly, eyes wide. Ruby frowned deeply and scrunched her face up like she was going to start crying. I hated seeing Ruby cry. She was a Tucker, after all. Tuckers don't cry.

"Unless you change..." She whimpered. "But I don't want you to change, Craig... I don't want to lose my big brother..." She said slowly, a tear threatening to roll down her cheek. I wiped it away before it could lead its' army down with it.

"Don't you worry, Rubes. I ain't changing none. And I ain't letting us get separated, either." I choked on my words, unsure if I could hold true to them. "Does.. does dad know?" I asked. Ruby shook her head tiredly. I sighed, "You just get to bed now, alright, kid?" I gently peeled her tiny hands away from my shirt and tucked her in since I had screwed up some of the blankets.

"Good night, Craig," she muttered to me as I shut her door.

"Night," I whispered back, shutting it and racing back into my attic. I flopped into the matress and hugged myself, thoughts whirring through my mind like wildfire. I was no closer to sleeping than I had been a half-hour ago, when I had woke. With all the things that ran through my brain, I knew one thing for sure.

Mom wanted to separate me and Ruby.

It wasn't as if Ruby didn't like who I happened to be; too her, I had been a boy since she was brought home. She was the one who started calling me 'Craig', too. She had a problem with her upper teeth and couldn't pronounce 'Chris' correctly. When mom broke the news to Ruby, she had hardly blinked. Ruby was the only person who really supported me; up until two nights ago, when Ken found out. God, I hoped with all my heart that she was lying, or delusional.

But deep down, I knew she was telling nothing but the truth.

-Line-Break-

Before I had left for school, mom had informed me that I was to be picked up by my dad instead of taking the bus. I knew from that moment that something bad was going to happen after school. Call it premonition, but after six years of taking the bus, suddenly switching to car without any further explanation was just begging for trouble. I still hadn't gotten over last night, and I'd been berated by all my teachers for drifting.

School passed in a fuzzy blur, and the only thing I could clearly remember was Kenny asking me why I looked dead.

I sat in the front seat of my dad's minivan, nervously biting my lower lip. We drove for a long while with not even the radio playing, just a staticky silence. Of course, for me, the steady beat of my heart pounding drowned through my ears. It was so loud, I glanced over to see if dad could hear it too. He didn't even seem to notice me, instead opting to keep his brown eyes on the road.

"How was school?" Dad spluttered out weakly, his voice quivering. His face showed no sign of the usual cheerfull grin it held for the longest time. It was a stricken sort of stressed look, one that made me feel uneasy.

"Alright," I said, no louder than a whisper.

"Craig, please understand why we're doing this." Dad said calmly, wiping clammy hands on his jeans and re-gripping the steering wheel. He bit his lip, a surefire way for me to know he was nervous. I wasn't really comprehending much of what he said, trapped in a stupor.

"I know why mom's doing it," I muttered quietly, clenching my fists. "It's 'cause she hates me, isn't it." My voice is reduced to not more than a weak whisper. I shake my head softly, leaning it against the window, "She hates me; I know it."

"She don't hate you," Dad said, sterner than I had ever heard him. "Don't you go and get these stupid ideas in your head, alright? Your mom wouldn't hate anyone. Not even her worst enemy. Don't you go delving into matters you don't understand. You ain't got _no_ right to be accusing your mother like that." His knuckles were white from his death grip on the wheel and he was speaking through grit teeth by the end of his tangent.

"I think I got some right to accuse her, 'cause she hasn't acted civil with me, not even mentioning motherly, since I chopped off my hair!" I screeched, suddenly filled with rage. All this time, dad had been on my side; and just like that. He hated me too, now. I could see that glare he was trying to suppress, staring at me. A vein on his forehead throbbed.

"Don't yell at me," He snarled. "And don't you speak one word until we're there."

I flipped him off in anger and crossed my arms. This was my dad. The man that I'd trusted myself to when I couldn't trust my mom. He was gone now- replaced by some sort of creature that can suck out all the goodness in someone and turn it sour. I gently blew air on the windows, ignoring the feeling that Dad was glaring at me.

"We're here." He said curtly, angrily staring at me.

"This ain't the house," I said in confusion, glancing at the sagging roof of the house. It was an ugly yellow color, with peeling paint and cracked sidewalks. A royal blue car was already parked in the driveway, and a bunch of chalk marked up the garage door.

"I know. This here is Mr. Trotting's house," Dad said without looking at me. I glared at him in disgust, flipping him off.

"And to think I trusted you, Fucker," I scowled deeply, each word rolling off my voice like poison. "To think that I let you in when you're just like her..." I flipped my dad off angrily, spitting at him.

He gave me a weird look; something caught in between hurt and rage. With that look, he shoved me hard out the door and pulled away, rolling down the window to get the last of his two-bits in. "You better be civil to Mr. Trotting. And you don't even think for a moment that you can blow this off; he'll call in so we can make sure you've gone." I tried to ignore the double meaning behind the word 'gone' in my head.

Glaring at the house, I figured to best just go in. Get it over with. I knocked on the handsome oak door, shifting my weight on my legs nervously. For a little while, nobody answered. Then, I heard a lock jiggle out of place and the door swung open, nearly catching my large nose in its' path. Mr. Trotting stood in the doorway, his rotund body taking up the whole door frame as he grinned wide enough to split his face in two. His messy grayish hair fell over his face wickedly, like he'd blown a fan on his head for the last five minutes while I was freezing my ass off at his door.

"Craig!" He said jovially, as if I were his favorite person, "Please, come in, why don't you?" He scooted his gigantic body away, far enough back that allowed me to barely slip inside his home. Now, I didn't want to be going into a strange man's house, especially not this strange guy's place in particular.

The interior of the house was something that would be better placed in a 60's movie. Plaid couches and armchairs occupied the already cramped place, and the deep brown walls made the room look so much smaller. Pictures of what I assumed to be family members were settled on the dark walls, all of them smiling wide, forced grins. A box television sat in the corner of the room, playing re-runs of _Seinfeld_. The ugly magenta shag beneath me was stained with food.

I bit my lip in anxiety, but didn't show further signs of the immense nervousness I was feeling. Tuckers don't show weakness.

"Take a seat, Craig," Trotting said gently, each note of warmth and kindness in his voice sounding forced. I carefully placed myself on one of the chairs, sitting upright and stiff. Trotting shut off the television, sitting adjacent to me. He crossed his legs professionally and smiled even wider. "Now," he began, enunciating the word slowly as if I had mental issues, "Tell me; when did you get into this phase?"

I tried to ignore the fact that he was referring to who I was as a phase. As far as I was concerned, I was always a little mud-slinging boy. I took a shaky breath in to mitigate my anger and muttered, "As long as I can remember."

"Really now? Do your parents have spousal problems? Abusive mother or sister?" He pressed, scrawling some chicken scratch on his notepad. His lips were paused, and his forehead was wrinkled in thought.

"Mom's a bitch," I commented dryly, "But she only became a bitch _after_ I announced I was a boy," I said when I saw his small black eyes spark. The glint in them went rather dead, but he pressed on further.

"So, I hear you hang around a boy; Lenny is his name?" Trotting said, narrowing his eyes. I leaned back on my chair, not nervous any more. Now that I'd become somewhat accustomed to the house, I felt less on edge. It was Trotting who was becoming more and more tense.

"Kenny," I corrected him bluntly. "He's my best friend."

"So did you feel as if your friendship would be jeopardized if you weren't like him? Is that it?" He frowned and pleaded with me silently, hoping to get some information out of me that he could use. I wasn't going to give him anything anytime soon, though."

"Not really," I said. "Ken is friends with a bunch of girls, as well as boys. He's real popular, you know? Hangs out with everyone. I doubt a vagina would get in the way of that," I cracked my knuckles carelessly, resting my head against my hand. "Anything else?"

"Do you have feelings for anybody?" He asked timidly, eyeing me.

I made a fatal mistake right there. My breath hitched slightly, and my eyes dilated. I shifted uncomfortably and blew some air on my fringe to cover it up, but Trotting had caught me. His black eyes gleamed, and he sat up straighter.

"Who's the lucky mister?" He asked slyly, voice snide. I was afraid now. Afraid to tell him who it was. Trotting, to me at least, appeared to be a dangerous man. I couldn't put Tweek in danger like that. At the very least, Trotting'd cause him some stress at the coffee house where he worked. I still wasn't going to risk it.

"None of your business," I growled, far more defensively than I had anticipated.

"So you do like someone," he laughed a little, "Oh, Craig, don't feel threatened. This is a safe place. Nothing you say here will be disclosed. If you don't feel comfortable, I won't even tell your mother." I still didn't buy a word of his ravings.

"Like I said before, it ain't your business," I snapped angrily, clenching my jaw. Something about Trotting set me off; something about the egotistical grin he gave me, or how he sneered out every word. He was so high and mighty, I just wanted to grab the nearest blunt object and pound him off whatever pedestal he was

Trotting leaned in real close and looked into my eyes unnervingly. "Is it Kenny?" He asked sincerely, voice quiet.

I gave a strained and humorless laugh, "Not at all, Trotting." I smiled at him with an icy cold warmness. "Kenny's my best friend, nothing more," I said with that grin. It was a long time before he spoke up again, and when he did, I had to release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Your parents love you, Chris," He whispered to me. I froze. It was the first time he had called me by my name; at least the name that's stamped on my birth certificate. "They just want you back," He grabbed my hand with both of his gigantic ones. "'S all they want. As soon as you get off this... this penchant you've been on to be someone you aren't, everything will go back to normal. You can have the happy family you've always wanted." He said. "All you have to do is quit this silly boy nonsense."

I won't say I braved the churning desire to take that precious forbidden fruit that Trotting had tried to lure me with; I was tempted beyond belief. Everything going back to normal... Dad and Mom would accept me, they'd hug me like real parents do, and praise me when I did something right... Ruby and I wouldn't get separated... I wouldn't be an 'it' or a 'thing' anymore... and Tweek... I'd have some chance with him if I just came clean... I lied all the time; to everybody... Lying to myself wouldn't be so much different, would it? I lie to myself anyways; what's one more tiny white lie to make everything better?

I must've been thinking for longer than I had thought, because Trotting smiled at me warmly and stood up. "I see you're thinking about the right choice," He said quietly. "You can ponder it tonight, okay? We'll meet again next Monday. I'll drive you home; just let me get my keys."

"Okay..." I muttered politely, waiting for him as he walked out of the room. My brain wasn't working properly, stuck in the illusion that could be made real for me. It was in my grasp, honestly. I could simply reach out and grab it tonight. And as I heard Trotting call for me to get in his blue car, I couldn't help but imagine if life were different. I couldn't help but lie to myself one more time.

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**Thanks to: Guest, Mickeymouse4everz, AwesomeSpellsPrussia, LunallenaWrwold01, the infamous Style Marshlovski, and vampiregoddess13! **

**If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have decided to keep writing this story, and any stories for that matter. Seriously. I love you guys so much, all of you get virtual hugs. That's right; make sure nobody's watching, and hug the shit out of your monitor. *Hug***


	5. Worse Than a Monster

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

**God, this chapter was extremely difficult to belt out for some reason, and I'm really not digging it so much. I had to really work to make the 3,000 word per chapter goal I set to push myself, but I think it all worked out in the end. **

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_Chapter Track: Monster- Skillet_

"Craig?" A hand waved in front of my face obnoxiously, and I grunted in half-hearted acknowledgement. I'd been staring at the multicolor bricks lining the cafeteria walls and had been generally zoned out for most of lunch. Clyde had stolen my sandwich, but I really couldn't find the mind or energy to grab it back, so I let it slide. "Shit, guys, I think Craig's turned into a zombie," Kenny said, feigning horror.

"A z-zombie?!" Tweek yelped back, the look of pure horror on his face very real. His doe-eyes were wider than saucers, and he twitched wildly. I smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tweek submitted, his breathing starting to go steady. Tweek generally hated it when people touched him, even after around five years he was still getting used to Kenny's touchy-feely tendencies.

I took pride in being one of the exceptions to the rule. In fact, Tweek calmed down when I touched him, even if it was something as simple as what I was doing now. I guess I'm a source of safety and comfort to him or something. He told me once, but I really wasn't listening. Red Racer had been on.

"I'm not a zombie." I deadpanned, flipping Kenny off absentmindedly. Tweek sighed in relief and took a generous sip of whatever was in his thermos. Usually it was coffee, but he liked to fill it up with other energy-supplemented drinks when he wanted a change. Once, he'd dumped about twenty_ Five-Hour Energy's_ in there. He claimed it was just because he liked the taste so much that he was able to shove away his paranoia of overdose.

"You look like one," Kenny stated blandly. "Anything wrong?" His look of amusement melted into one of anxiety and nervousness. It was nice to know that Kenny still cared. Even if he did manage to insult my appearance in the process.

"Just my parents. Dad's started on it now, too," I shook my head, still mixed up from my talk with Trotting only two days ago. "The fucker stabbed me in the back," I added, the hand that was still gripping Tweek's shoulder tightened, and I ignored the small yelp from my twitchy friend. He always made small yelps, after all. "I can't even look at him anymore, he makes me so fucking sick; I mean, I trusted him, yeah? And he just fucking betrayed me, man! I mean, who does that to their own fucking son?!" My hand was really tight now, nails digging into Tweek's shoulder roughly.

My tangent was interrupted by a loud, pained cry from Tweek. I glared at him in a flash of anger, not at him, but at my father. I'd gotten a bit riled up, and I was a little bit aggressive. "What?" I nearly screamed. My voice died off as I seen the expression on Tweek's face.

Fat wet tears were streaking down his face, and his huge green eyes flashed with pain and hurt. He was still whimpering softly, mumbling the word, "Sorry", over and over. I immediately released him, guilt burning in my chest. Here I was, clutching his shoulder so hard he was driven to tears, and he has the audacity to_ apologize_ to me. His small hand reached up to gently rub the spot where I'd assaulted him, and he bit his lower lip hard.

"I-I-" I couldn't formulate words, I was so stricken. You don't hurt Tweek. You just don't.

I know apologies ain't going to do nothing. I can say that one word, "Sorry", as much as I want, but it won't change what I did. I just shook my head in shame, muttering under my breath, "You should probably go to the nurse." Tweek whined softly and I realized he had his own little hand holding on to the fabric of my sweater.

"If you aren't going to say sorry, you should at least go to the nurse's with him," Kenny snapped at me from the table. He never got angry. Kenny was always the kind of laid back guy; not confrontational unless need-be and never angry. But like I said before, you just don't hurt Tweek. The kid was sort of everyone's buddy, and he was one of the kids off-limits to bullies.

"Yeah," I replied in monotone, eyes not daring to look up. "C'mon, Small Fry, let's go." I said, letting him grip my forearm as hard as he wanted. Which wasn't very hard, as I suspect he was just latching on to me for comfort and support. Ironic.

The halls were eerily quiet without the kids squeezing through them in a mad dash to get to their classes. The only real sound was the clapping of our shoes as they hit the tile floors, and the choked sobs still coming from my Tweek. I bit my lip, guilt broiling in me like a bad meal, making bile rise to my throat.

We eventually reached the nurses office, and I settled Tweek on the blue cot, sitting next to him. He was still hanging on to my coat, and I forced myself to think of other things to avoid blushing. I couldn't help it though. He looked so vulnerable and innocent, tears still escaping his eyes. I wasn't no good at apologies; never said a single one in all my life. However, I couldn't let Tweek carry on with his whispered Sorry's.

"Baby," I said to get his attention. I didn't mean this romantically; honest. When me and Tweek were kids, we thought playing house was cool. The guys wouldn't play with us, though, so we played with the girls. I was the dad, Wendy was the mom, and Tweek was the baby. I guess after referring to him as 'baby' for so often, it just sort of grew on him. I didn't say it much anymore, only if he was sad or something.

Tweek sniffled quietly, stopping his incantation for a moment to listen. His big green eyes were staring at me intently, as if I could heal all his problems instead of starting them in the first place. He'd stopped rubbing his arm, but his fingers were still wound fast against my jacket.

"Look, I'm real sorry, alright? I'm just frustrated, yeah? It's not really an excuse, but..." I trailed off, looking everywhere but at Tweek. The whole apology was filled with stuttering and pauses and my fumbling over words, and it had sounded stupidly fake.

Tweek sniffled softly, trying his best to manage a wobbly smile. "It's okay, Craig." He said without stutter, trying to laugh a little bit. "God, y-your nails are sharp t-though. Did y-you get a manicure?" He chuckled a little bit.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurd statement. My nails were uglier than a troll's and they were nothing but stubs. Good thing that was, though. If they'd been any longer, they might've broken skin.

"Does- does it hurt real bad?" I asked tentatively, trying my best to keep my gaze on Tweek. I vaguely remember the blonde telling me something about how he hated when people didn't look at him when they were speaking to him. I don't think I was paying real good attention, though. I'd insisted on filming for 'Close Up Animals Wearing Hats', a popular school broadcast show I ran for a short amount of time.

"No.." He whispered, "It d-doesn't h-hurt that bad. I was j-just shocked, that's a-all," Tweek leaned back against my side, his head falling on my shoulder. whereas my frame was a little rounded, Tweek's was made of sharp, pronounced angles. Sort of like an old Nintendo 64 game. He fit in the crook of my neck like a Tetris, and I felt my face heat up.

I never really fit in anywhere. I was sort of like the extra puzzle piece made to deceive people. When I did fit, it was always a mistake. I never belonged with the rest of the picture, as hard as I tried. I guess that was alright, Tweek was another fool's piece in the set, and I figured that since the trick pieces didn't fit in anywhere else, they may as well fit with each other. _And you know what_, I thought as Tweek settled himself perfectly in my neck, body conforming with my side, _we sort of do fit nicely_.

"Tweek, Tweek," The nurse, a skinny lady with pronounced curves and brunet hair tied up in a loose bun clucked her tongue irritably. "What do we have today?" Tweek peeled himself away from my neck and looked up at the nurse.

"My s-shoulder-" He began, pulling up his jacket sleeve so that she could see the little crescent shaped marks blemishing his milky skin. I was wrong; my nails had cut skin. The blood was pretty stagnant, however, so at least he wasn't gushing it. I bit my lip again, although I had already given it enough abuse from my guilt alone.

"Okay," She dragged out the word carelessly, and a little bit exasperated, fetching a box of bandages. She dumped the small carton on his lap, beginning to walk off. "Take whichever one you like," she called as she walked down the hall to the teacher's lounge to mooch off some free food or whatever. I flared; did they not care if someone was hurt?

"Don't get m-mad." Tweek broke into my thoughts and pulled me out, examining a Dora The Explorer Band-Aid, "I come h-here a l-l-lot when I n-need to cool off. T-they let me change t-the curtains because I c-come down here so often." I glanced at the curtains to see that they were a shade of deep blue with wave patterns embroidered into them.

After he took around three whole minutes deciding between the Dora The Explorer and Handy Manny band-aids, I had stuck it on his shoulder and tried not to kiss it better like mom did before she started hating me. I sighed, shaking my head in resignation. Fuck it; I was still his best friend and his sort-of dad in a severely abstract way. My lips pressed against the bandage, and I heard a small gasp from him.

"S-sorry, baby," I mumbled apologetically, blushing a little as I reeled back. No doubt he thought I was some sort of pervert now. I was glad Kenny wasn't here; he'd either have a crap-attack over me trying to freak out Tweek more than necessary, or he'd squeal like a girl in excitement. He'd been bugging me about Tweek since I had told him I had a crush on the boy. "I was just trying to-"

"S'alright. I d-don't mind. J-just surprised me i-is all." He said, trying to grin. "It f-feels a ton b-b-better now." He said, mocking a child and sacking my arm in a friendly manner. He picked himself up and yanked his sleeve back over his arm. His eyes flashed in concern for a moment, one where he was sure I wasn't looking.

I knew he wasn't fooled; he'd confronted me once already about my home life. The tangent I was on seemed to convince him something was definitely going on. He thankfully didn't press me on the subject, leading me out of the nurse's office. I started to walk the other way to get to my locker before the bell rang, but something stopped me. I looked down and smiled.

Tweek's hand was still gripping my coat, little fingers wrapped around the fabric.

I was almost a little regretful to let him release his hand, waving him goodbye as I trotted to my next class.

-Line-Break-

"Craig?" I glanced over to see Kenny staring at me with his large blue eyes. His expression was something vaguely readable, something in between agitation and apathy. "Did you take Tweek to the nurse?" He asked calmly, fiddling with his pencil in his fingers.

"Yeah," I replied solemnly, frowning.

Lots of people didn't know this, but Kenny had an especially sweet spot for the twitchy boy. Kenny had a protection complex; he wanted to be needed and he needed to be wanted. Without things to depend on him, Kenny was nothing. It was probably the reason he cared about his younger sister Karen so much, or why he constantly defended the rats everyone else dismissed as vermin. Tweek was sort of like the little brother Kenny never had, someone to look after and defend. All three of us were something of a tight-knit pact, never breaking or fraying, because admit it or not, we needed each other.

"Don't do that again, Craig. I know your dad is being a dickhole, but you can't take out your anger on Tweek." He said with such conviction, I suddenly felt guilty again. I forced myself not to nip on my lower lip.

"I know, Ken. I'm just mixed up about Trotting, I said blankly, settling my head on the desk lazily. Nobody really paid any attention in history anyways; talking in class didn't merit a detention.

"Trotting?" Kenny said with some interest lighting up his confused face. His elfish features conveyed concern, and his blue eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you?" Kenny shook his head and I shrugged, explaining briefly the last few days with the man. I told him about how mom had hired him, and how dad had betrayed me. It felt good to vent; I hadn't told anyone else about Trotting. Any conversation around my house was usually an argument, and I couldn't freak Ruby out more after she told me what mom had told her.

"You don't believe him, right? You know you aren't a sin, yeah?" Kenny asked reproachfully, his face marked with anger and concern at the same time. It was funny how emotions mixed on his face. No matter what he looked like; with his mischievous elf features, it always looked like he was up to some trouble.

"I know, it's just.." I trailed off for a second, trying to find my words before I spoke, "He told me everything would go back to normal, Ken. Me and Ruby are getting split up because of me, and he says if I just... just change I everything can go back. I can have a chance with Tweek, and..." I shook my head, sighing. "I'm sorry, Ken," Now that I had started apologizing, I couldn't stop. It felt kind of good to tell someone you were ashamed for something you'd done wrong instead of just pretending it didn't happen. "I'm acting pretty melodramatic, aren't I? I ain't got no right to be whining when you can't even get a square meal."

"Don't say you don't have a right to be sad, Craig. Everyone has that right," Kenny soothed, rubbing my back comfortingly, his palm pressing in between my shoulder blades. "And you know Tweek, man. You think he'll care about who you are if he loves you?"

"No," I mumbled miserably, letting Kenny's words flow through my clattered brain. "But he'd no doubt hate me for lying to him all this time, and god, he'd freak out if he found out."

Kenny nodded, resigning his attempts to comfort my disconsolate form. I didn't know why, but venting to Kenny didn't relieve the weight in my chest, it made my burden that much worse. All I wanted to do was punch something, make something hurt as much as I was hurting. My thoughts managed to drift off to an old fairy tale I'd heard so long ago. Little Red Riding hood.

I'd liked it as a kid immensely, and as a teenager, it still remained my favorite fairy tale. I didn't think the wolf was that bad. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with who he was, a ferocious wild beast, and wanted to be something different, a sweet hearted grandmother, perhaps. He was sort of like me that way. But in the end, the wolf was always the bad guy, always the monster.

But I didn't feel like a monster. I felt fine.

Maybe I was a monster. Maybe it was just that I wasn't hurting people on the outside. Maybe every one of my lies was hurting people. Maybe who I was had been killing my mother inside for a long time. But then I let my senses return and I shook away the thoughts ramming in my skull, immersing myself in the reading of the Civil War to ignore it.

"Hey, Ken?" I asked softly, leaning over towards his desk. He glanced back at me apprehensively.

"Yes?" He asked with that sort of taut voice, the one that meant he was thinking of something important. But what; I had no idea. Kenny usually wore his heart on his sleeve, when he had that distant look in his eyes and that strained voice, you could tell he was suppressing those emotions into his head, where he could scan over them without the interruption of his peers.

"Could you come over later tonight?" I asked earnestly, glancing up at him with my icy blue eyes. He gave me a tired sigh and smiled, sacking me on the arm hard. Not as hard as usual, but enough to leave me rubbing it for a second.

"You're trying to use the baby blues on me!" He hissed back, referring to the puppy-dog look I was giving him with my eyes.

"Aw, come on, Ken." I whimpered, trying my best to look like a kicked puppy. I couldn't be left alone with my thoughts tonight. I needed someone to pull me away from them, even if they had to do so with me kicking and screaming. And being needed was one of Kenny's specialties.

"Alright, alright," the blonde gave in, and I grinned. "But it's gotta be a little later, okay? I've got something to do today," he said in that taut voice again. I was getting frustrated. We were usually diaries with the keys attached to each other. We told one another everything. I hated that he was being so secretive with me.

"What?" I asked in a flippant tone, grinding my teeth. That voice, so unusual on my best friend, was starting to wear on my nerves.

"I'll tell you later, alright Craig?" Before I could press him, the bell sounded and everybody flooded out of the room, Kenny going along with them in the same rushed flow. I seethed, biting my lip and pounding on my desk in annoyance.

Kenny Fucking McCormick was saved by the bell.

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**Thanks to: Queenhellhound, LunallenaWrwolf01, AwesomeSpellsPrussia (Who literally hugged his monitor and has earned my respect.), UsernamesRLame, Strangeressesses, Style Marshlovski, vampiregoddess13, and skyeatairplane for their kickass reviews! **


	6. Fighting Rough

**I DO NUT OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Thankfully, the difficulties I had writing the last chapter were almost non-existent when I wrote this one, and I must say, I'm proud of this one. Before I get a flame-spam, There is an explanation to the first part of this chapter, and it will be explained later. **

**I wrote this chapter shortly after I got into a stupid-ass fight with my friend over chess because he didn't want to lose. I had check'd his king, and he didn't want to move it so I took it with my rook (The little castle) and won. He argued with me for an hour saying that I couldn't win because you "Can't move that piece on my side of the board because the rules never said that you can". I even showed him the rules and he kept saying that it never specifically said I could take his king with my rook (even though it was implied) so that meant I couldn't. Seriously, the kid is my best friend but I can't even play a game with him because he refuses to lose.**

**XXXXX**

**Chapter Track: My World- Sick Puppies**

Tweek sighed, clumsily managing to walk down the desolate backstreets of the small mountain town. His blonde hair flew out behind him due to the wind, getting in his eyes often and perturbing him greatly. Bright green eyes scanned the sparsely populated back roads, taking in the cracked cement under his boots and the awfully painted homes looming on either side. He really did hate walking alone, with only the sound of his chattering teeth to keep him company. He could have opted to walk home with one of the girls- BeBe or Wendy or whoever didn't mind his tagging along (The guys of South Park were more of obnoxious warmongers that only served to annoy him).

Besides, the outskirts of the main road were always so nice and quiet. Nobody there to bother Tweek, no danger, and no loud cars splashing him with slush. It took exponentially longer, however, because the boy preferred to walk around the outskirts for long periods of time to procrastinate going home. His house was nice and all, really. It was just that his father had recently gotten into modern pop-culture and had something of a midlife crisis. You could hear the man blasting rap music and trying his best to keep up with the filth-ridden lyrics from fifty feet away. And if that wasn't enough, Richard Tweak had also started sporting an odd mix of clothing from Banana Republic and Hot Topic. And that was just way to much pressure.

Tweek liked the solitary freedom to think and do as he pleased away from the people he knew. But he had to admit; it did get kind of lonely.

He used to walk with Craig all the time. Until Craig started hanging on every word coming from Kenny McCormick's mouth. Suddenly, Craig just wanted to go straight home without so much of a 'goodbye'. It was really getting to the paranoid twitcher. The thought passed that he might have been the smallest bit jealous of Criag's best buddy, but he shoved it away. Tweek _never_ got jealous. If he always got jealous over what other people had as compared to him, he'd've had a stroke.

It wasn't his fault entirely that he was so... _envious_ of Kenny. The kid was handsome and funny, and kind to boot. He had perfect sandy blonde hair that was messy in all the right ways, a lean face with piercing blue eyes, and a great smile. No wonder Tweek was being replaced so easily by the street-rat. Kenny was like God had personally asked Michelangelo to sculpt a beautiful human being for him to birth. It was just so unfair. Tweek was sort of like God tried to sculpt someone half-drunk as a joke to laugh at.

Tweek whined loudly in the back of his throat, annoyed at how he got to himself so easily. It wasn't easy convincing himself that Craig was still his friend, though. Ever since a while ago, Craig's face would go bright red when he neared the blonde, as if he were angry. Tweek didn't want Craig to be angry. He didn't even know why Craig would be angry in the first place. Had he done something wrong?

"W-what's _wrong_ with m-me!" Tweek scolded the sky above, asking it desperately for answers. To his disappointment, the sky offered zero help. He hadn't been expecting to much, but it was South Park, goddammit. If he wanted the sky to talk to him, the sky should've damn well spoken.

Tweek angrily took out his phone and dialed Craig's number determinedly. His brown untied snow boots collided with a snow bank as the line rung a few times more than what Tweek was able to deal with. The blonde growled audibly into the receiver, twitching. He wasn't just a paranoid mess due to unhealthy amounts of coffee; he was an irritable paranoid mess.

Finally, the phone made a little click as Craig's monotone voice came through, mitigating Tweek's annoyance.

"Hello?" Craig asked blankly, and Tweek smiled a little (although he had no idea why).

"Hi, C-craig!" Tweek said, his bubbly voice squeaking and shifting unpleasantly, like a squeaky joint in bad need of oiling. Tweek frowned momentarily; his voice was so godawful. Why couldn't he just text Craig like normal people do to their buddies?

"Oh, hey," Craig responded dully, with a twinge of exasperation to his voice and an audible huff of annoyance.

"S-sorry, is this a b-bad time? Jesus," Tweek stuttered out rather ungracefully, chewing on his lower lip testily. Was he really this annoying?

"Sort of. Sorry, Small Fry. Kenny's over right now," Craig said.

"O-oh," Tweek said in a disheartened tone. Kenny, Kenny,_ Kenny_. It was always about_ Kenny_ anymore. He bitterly said his goodbye and hung up. Tweek wished he was some other kid. Some other Player two who didn't mind blending away into the background. But he wasn't. And he couldn't stand how easily Craig could throw him aside for that... that _street-rat_. What was so great about stupid Kenny anyways?

Tweek felt sour. He _was_ jealous, alright. His stomach churned with the ferocity of a bad meal, and he felt sick. Craig probably didn't even like him! He was probably just a little toy for those two to watch fumble and stutter and took a large swig of his coffee, frowning. He was so caught up in his wild theories and anger that he didn't notice the heavy footsteps behind him. Nor did he realize that someone was tailing him until it was too late, and a hand had roughly gripped his shoulder.

-Line-Break-

I lied. Kenny wasn't with me. I felt a little queasy when I spoke to my blonde friend, breathing in short, nervous breaths and occasionally huffing out air in anxiety. I couldn't help it, though. After my outburst today I just couldn't get the guts up to talk to him. I knew we made up, but Tweek wasn't like Kenny when it came to expressing himself. If something bothered him, he'd go to the ends of the earth to keep you from knowing just so you'd have some good peace of mind. Kenny, on the other hand, was an open book. Expressive and sometimes even a little bit rude when he was trying to express his emotions.

I couldn't tell if the incident had bothered the kid, but he sounded awful curt on that phone. I can only assume he was still trying to hide his agitation. Honestly, I didn't know if I could stand another blast of that guilt. I never wanted to see Tweek cry again; not ever. He was a nice kid, and he didn't deserve that. But god, if only he was easier to read.

Another thing greatly bothered me. Ken was starting to pull the mysterious persona as well, trying to act shifty with where he was going tonight. It was already four o'clock and I hadn't so much as a text from him. I hoped that he was alright. Ken had a strange knack of getting himself into dangerous situations. Simply because Kenny was always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I frowned, peering over the cover of my book to stare at out ugly red door. I hadn't really been reading the book; only using it as a prop so if someone did happen unto me, they'd see I wasn't just doing nothing. My parents both worked on Wednesdays, and Ruby always stayed an hour or two after school to do some sort of cheerleading. So for a whole hour, the house was mine. If I wanted to eat everything in the fridge, I would. If I wanted to jack off to Oprah and Dr. Phil, then that was fine. If I wanted to do that one_ thing_ with that fuzzy yellow pillow well, then, why not?

Suddenly, I heard the faint rapping of knuckles against my door. I burrst up, answering it with zeal. Kenny stood in the doorway, a smug grin gracing his pale face. He sauntered in regally, like one would imagine a king to walk in front of his subjects. He smiled heartily at me and punched my shoulder gently. Kenny, eager to make himself at home, flopped down on one of the couches, clutching a pillow to his chest and smiling.

"What're you giggling about?" I asked him, cocking my head to see what he found so amusing.

"Great news, Craig-y boy!" Ken announced loudly, puffing out his chest in pride and producing a small baby rat from his shirt pocket so that the rodent could hear. Russ made himself comfortable atop Kenny's head. "I've got a job! No more frozen ego waffles for me and Karen!" He grinned wide, and I couldn't help but smile back.

See, Ken never really did have anything to truly be proud off. He was a poor kid living in a trailer just to the right of the train tracks. His mom drank and his dad hit. Kenny's life was the epitome of most all cliche'd sob stories. He always had the ugliest clothing, and I don't even know how tough-skinned you have to be to sleep in a snowy mountain town with no heating in your house.

"Is that what you were acting so elusive about in class?" I questioned quizzically, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms. Kenny chuckled sheepishly.

"Yeah," He said airily, gray-blue eyes flickering up to meet mine. "I wanted to wait and see if I made the cut or not. Didn't want to tell anyone else because I wanted to be proud of myself for once, yeah? If I told you I was applying for a job and didn't make it, that'd suck major ass," Kenny said. I smiled warmly and sat down adjacent to him.

"Awesome, man. You deserve it," I said, feigning sincerity. Kenny sacked me in the shoulder, a little flushed from embarrassment. He really wasn't used to getting praise. I tried to bury the fact that I was slightly miffed at the blonde. Getting a job meant he'd be somewhere else during the day, and I really don't want to sound like a clingy boyfriend, but that meant I wouldn't be able to spend as much time with him. And I didn't have anyone else to run to when my family got out of hand.

"So," Kenny licked his lips mischievously, "Do I get a kiss in congratulations?"

"Shove off," I laughed, pushing him. Kenny was always pulling this junk on me. It was getting to the point where I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. His eyes displayed only lightheartedness, though, so I was pretty sure he was just joking.

Kenny stuck his tongue out at me, shoving me back twice as hard and sending me reeling into the couch cushions. He immediately pounced, landing so that he was straddling my stomach. He playfully smacked my arm. I growled happily, smacking him back and throwing him off with my legs. He may think he's got me pinned, but I am one flexible son of a bitch.

We spent the whole afternoon like that, roughing each other up until Ruby stumbled in to see Kenny and I in a rather compromising position. His knee was on my stomach to keep me in place, and his arms had mine pinned on the ground. I could see how this could be interpreted, but if Ruby cared to look a little harder, she would've seen the massive amount of saliva dangling from Kenny's mouth ready to fall unforgivably on to my face.

By time we had finished our rough housing, my arms and back were riddled with bruises, and I could tell his were too. We usually never really hurt each other, so I was a little surprised to see that I was covered in a blanket of black-and-blue. I frowned a little bit, turning towards the orange-clad boy.

"You fought rough," I stated blankly, a scowl on my face. Now that I thought about it, my whole body was smarting and hurting. We never fought that hard. Maybe a wayward bruise or a cut, but never was I feeling nervous to wear a short-sleeve for fear of someone seeing the damage done.

Kenny snorted, showing off his arm. A bruise or two was starting to form, and he had a lopsided grin on. "You did too," He beamed, obviously thinking my statement was a compliment. I scanned the bare skin showing on him, finding that he wasn't nearly as beat-up as I was. yeah, he had a few marks here and there, but he didn't have big red lumps coating his arm like me.

"No," I frowned, "I mean you _really_ fought rough." I winced, picking myself up and trying to massage out the knots in my banged up shoulder. I hoped he didn't feel like this show of vulnerability was because of who I was. It wasn't the fact that I was a girl, it was the fact that Kenny had never hit that hard before. I think he might have been trying to convince himself that I was still tough even with his recent discovery. But I didn't know where that logic would've come from. Even if you discovered that a toad was just a smaller frog, it wouldn't stop eating bugs.

Kenny looked me up and down and bit his lip anxiously, beginning to realize the blemishes marring my skin. Frowning, he nodded in understanding and sat next to me, peeling my hands off of my shoulder and rubbing it himself. "Sorry, Craig," He muttered out, "I didn't mean to, I was just... You know what, never mind. I'll make you one of those weird peanut butter and jelly sandwiches you like," He said, lifting my spirits.

"Really? So can I tell you to get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich?" I sniggered softly, ignoring the stabbing feeling in my back as I stood up. Russ, who I had forgotten was even present, crawled up my shoulder and found himself comfy snuggled up against my neck. Kenny let me lean against him as I stumbled into the kitchen. I plunked down in the chair, sitting back as Kenny floundered around for the bread.

"It's on top of the fridge," I pointed to the breadbox, sighing. Kenny nodded, hauling a chair over and heaving himself up. He was still pretty short compared to me, but that was just because I was a Tucker. Even my mother was oddly tall, almost able to peer over the top of the fridge if she stood on her toes.

Kenny quickly got the bread and jumped off, his inexperienced hands making the sloppiest sandwich I had ever seen in my entire life. It was the thought that counted though, right?

"Thanks," I said quietly, tucking in and devouring the food in three monstrous bites. I licked my fingers clean, smiling wide. Food was a great thing, really. By the time I had finished and had downed the rest of the milk, I was ready to forget my ire towards my best friend.

Kenny grinned toothily, glad that I was feeling a little fuller, at least. "Hey, maybe I should cook for you all the time, Craig!"

"You'll probably spit in my food," I deadpanned casually. Kenny loved my trademark monotone. To him, it made me that much funnier to be saying the punchline of a joke with a straight face. He tilted his head back, laughing boisterously.

Kenny looked like he was about to speak when the wall phone rang out. We had a silent argument over who would pick it up, and I won. Kenny sighed, heaving himself up and answering it with the dullest 'hello' I'd ever heard outside of my family.

"No, he's not here. Why?" Kenny asked, his brow forming a lazy caterpillar. I tiled my head, looking at Kenny in confusion.

"_What?_" Kenny said so abruptly, I jumped a little. He continued to talk on the phone seriously, his face growing pale and his eyes intense. He gnawed on his lip and a cold sweat was forming over his skin. He hung up, practically throwing the phone against the wall and turned to stare at me.

"What's going on?" I asked, alarmed.

"Get your coat on, Craig," Kenny ordered in a rough tone. "Tweek's gone missing."

My heart dropped. I breathed shakily and stood up, throwing on my blue coat and robotically following Kenny out the door. Tweek was missing? Impossible. I had only just talked to him a few hours ago. I felt my stomach clench as I remembered my conversation with him. He had seemed particularly curt. Was It possible that I had said something? Worst of all, I knew that if I had walked home with him like I used to not so long ago, he probably would've been home safe.

This was all my fault.

"Snap out of it, Tucker," Kenny barked to me in that oddly harsh tone. "Take this and help me instead of just standing there like an idiot." I flinched at his words, glad for the night to shield my expression. He thrust a flashlight into my hand and I flicked it on, watching the powerful beam of light fall on a house across the street. I was glad for Russ to be next to me, his furry body perched on mine. Ask me and I'd deny it, but I was terrified of the dark.

"Tweek!" Kenny called out, combing the street expertly. I began looking too, slower though because my leg was still smarting. I think I even heard Russ squeaking loudly as if calling for the boy as well.

"He ain't on this street, Ken!" I yelled finally, "I don't think he takes the main roads home!"

"How do you know that?" Kenny yelled back, trying to squint through the dark to see me.

"Just seems like what Tweek would do! C'mon, let's go take the backstreets," I said, not waiting for a reply as I awkwardly stumbled down the street as fast as I could, turning left to reach the streets most people didn't even go to. The huge forest that bordered the street loomed over me hauntingly, and the houses seemed stretched out and bending towards the road. Cold, bitter wind attacked me from all sides, and I slid a shivering Russ into my coat pocket to keep him warm.

Swallowing hard, I called out loudly, "Tweek!" When no response came, I began carefully threading myself through the cracked streets, peering through the nastily falling snow. If he'd been out here since I called him, he'd've freezed to death. I hoped that wasn't the case.** (A/N: How angry would you all be if I killed off Tweek right now?) **I think I must've been filing through the dossier of homes for around forty minutes, and with each passing second, dread filled my stomach.

My breath hitched as I shivered, wondering how much longer I myself could stay out here. I frowned, hearing Ken yell from the back roads to the right of the main street. There really were only four areas to look. The main road where most everyone lived on, the town, where the shops were, the back roads, and over the railroad tracks. We'd already decided that Tweek wouldn't be on the main road, and I was sure he wouldn't go over the railroad tracks. The poor kid was traumatized of trains after he'd had an accident with a stranger on one. And if he were in the town, people would've seen him.

That simply left the back-roads.

I felt hopeless, crawling through the snow like this. I shifted my flashlight a small degree and gasped.

Tweek Tweak's bright blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb, in the place that was covered in rust and deep neutral colors. I thanked god quietly and rushed over to him, making sure Russ wouldn't fall from my pocket. The boy was sprawled out, wedged between two houses. Snow covered him in a fluffy layer of white, and his eyes were closed. I couldn't ignore the dread inside my stomach, eating away at me. With shaking hands, I gently shook the boy.

"Tweekers?" I asked tentatively, tears pricking my eyes when he didn't stir. "Baby, wake up._ Please_," I mumbled hopelessly, hugging my arms around his freezing body and pressing my ear to his faintly beating heart. He was alive. That's all I needed. "Thank god," I said under my breath, hauling him off of the snow and laying him over my lap in an attempt to keep him warm. Tears were freely going down my face now, and I couldn't help but get angry at them.

Tuckers don't cry.

I pressed my nose into his hair, trying to keep him pressed up against me. "You're alright now," I whispered, stroking his hair delicately. Whether I was comforting him or myself, I don't know. "You warm up now, alright, baby?"

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Kenny's number, listening to the phone ring for what seemed like forever before he picked up.

"Yes?" He asked hastily.

"I found him, Ken. We're down on the other back roads, wedged between the big brown building and the green one. I'll leave my flashlight on so you can find us." I said in one short burst, hearing a short 'okay' before shutting off the device.

What I couldn't fathom was why Tweek was sprawled out here. He couldn't have done this to himself, could he? I mean, it would be a perfect way to attract attention. I shook my head. What was I _thinking_? Of course Tweek wouldn't do this to himself.

I kissed the top of his head gently, hoping that it would wake him up like in that one fairy tale- Sleeping Beauty. Disappointingly, however, he didn't move, except for his hand that was subconsiously clutching the fabric of my shirt. Decidedly, I shed the unzipped my coat and forced it around the both of us, gasping when I realized just how cold and dead Tweek really felt. Poor kid. The guy hardly wore more than cotton shirts and poorly-buttoned sweaters. It was a wonder he didn't get hypothermia on a daily.

"You_ idiot_," I whispered into his hair, holding him close and trying to keep that dim heartbeat going. "Don't you go dying on me," I mumbled. "I love you way too much."

People say that when they admit their love to someone, they instantly know it's true. They know they love them, when they didn't know before. But that wasn't me. I always knew I loved Tweek. Since that day in the third grade when we knocked the snot out of each other to this very moment right now. I always loved Tweek. I just wasn't willing to say it. I didn't know if we'd be alright. Hell, I didn't know if he'd make it out alive, and the prospect of the possibility petrified me. But I did know one thing.

Tweek Tweak wasn't going to die. Not now. Not as long as I was still alive to hug him and talk to him and see him. He wasn't going to die. Because I loved him way too much. I wouldn't allow him to take his final breath.

Determined, I rubbed his back roughly, hoping the friction could keep him warm. I faintly heard Kenny's footsteps echoing through the street, and I hugged Tweek tighter. "We'll get you somewhere warm in no time, baby," I said quietly, as Kenny rounded the corner and found us.

"C'mon," The orange-clad boy said gently, concern etching his face. "Your house is closer than Tweek's. I'll help you carry him." I wanted to protest, but I knew that I was in no shape to be carrying the unconscious twitcher. Even if he was freakishly lightweight.

"Okay," I complied, unzipping my jacket and shedding it, carefully pulling Russ out of the pocket and setting him on my shoulder. I threw the warm fabric around Tweek and ignored the skeptical glance from Kenny. Silently, we started to walk back down the cracked city streets and headed for home.

* * *

**Thanks to the amazing Reviewers: Crickett5, AwesomeSpellsPrussia, Style Marshlovski, UsernamesRLame (Your comment made my day when I had the worst day ever. Thank you :3 ), LunallenaWrwolf01, and Sleep Arypsure. You awesome guys to me are like what Go Go Juice is to Honey Boo Boo. **


	7. I'm The Guy

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Honestly, I've had this chapter running through my mind since I first developed the idea of this fic. The only bad part about this chapter is that around 90% of it is bullshitted; There is absolutely no genuine experience for me to fall back on. I tried to read some fics to get the gist of it, but lots of them are far to cliche, and I fear I have fallen into that category. And I'm sure none of you guys know me well, but I absolutely hate cliches. And try not to get too comfy with the fluff, either. It's the calm before the storm, and I've got a big one brewing just for you. **

* * *

_Chapter Track: Fix You- Coldplay_

_"You're sure about this? No turning back, you know."_

_"Positive, uh, sir. I'll do anything at this point."_

_"Prove yourself to me first. I can't have a traitor."_

_"Of course. But can I ask something real quick?"_

_"Sure. Fire away."_

_"What's up with this penchant you have? Really going to full lengths to ruin one person's life, if I might say." _

_"Figured you'd ask that. Well, if you must know... I'll tell you. But I first need you to focus on the task at hand. Take out the blonde, and then we can discuss further negotiations."_

_"Right. Sorry, sir."_

_*__Click__*_

-Line-Break-

I pressed my palm against the panting boy's forehead, cringing at the coldness of his skin. His temperature had risen some, but he was still a human Popsicle as far as I could tell. Despite his freezing skin, Tweek was sweating bullets. His uneven breathing was ragged and rough, and his chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. He'd been like this for the last two days, in fact. His parents had been forced to attend a business convention, leaving Tweek to our responsibility. Mom was nothing short of pissed.

Tweek's eyes fluttered open, and he coughed some, pain evident on his face as it wracked his small frame. He shivered and squinted, trying to make out my face. "C-craig?" He muttered meekly, voice scratchy.

"Hi, Small Fry," I said, trying my best to grin. "Glad you're awake. Are you hungry?" I nervously bit my lip and clasped my hands. Tweek, whether I admitted it or not, was a fragile kid. I couldn't stand seeing him sick or injured, because that just affirmed my fear that he was so easily breakable. On usual, I can just pretend he's regular boy- healthy and perfectly capable, if not a little cowardly. But seeing him, breathing like he's never going to inhale oxygen again, and coughs wracking his body so effortlessly... Well, it's hard to keep up the illusion.

"N-no." Tweek stammered out, coughing again. I frowned and bit my lip. Tweek wasn't eating or drinking much of anything lately. I had tried to give him some bread, but he couldn't keep it down. He didn't even want coffee anymore, complaining that it tasted like old lunch meat. Even mom was getting worried about his lack of appetite by now.

"C'mon, Tweek," I said sternly, "You need to eat _something_."

"I s-said I didn't w-_want_ anything." He snapped at me testily, gritting his teeth. "I'm just g-going to p-puke it b-back u-up later," He added, looking away to hide another bout of coughs.

"Then I'll go get you a Ginger-Ale," I shot back, a lot meaner than I had meant to. At this, Tweek just stuck out his tongue at me and gave me an annoyed sneer. I smirked, leaning down to ruffle his messy hair. On any other occasion, he would've swatted my hand away.

I slipped downstairs, hopping over the last few steps. Mom was cooking god knows in the kitchen, checking her phone in the intervals where she wasn't doing anything. I walked in gingerly, moving around her and snatching a Ginger-Ale from the fridge. Nobody in the family actually drank it, but mom went out and bought a container of them after we got the burden of making sure Tweek didn't die of sickness.

"Put that in a cup, Chris," Mom said in what could almost be classified as civil. She passed one to me, paying attention to her food too much to look at me. I flipped her off absentmindedly. "The cup is for ice," She added when I was about to put the drink in first. I frowned, muttering annoyed gibberish under my breath. I still put in the ice, though, so I guess that counts for something.

"Where's Ruby?" I asked bluntly, pouring the drink in the cup carefully and watching it fizz. Ever since my conversation with Ruby, I'd been awful paranoid. I constantly had to know where she was and what she was doing and if she was still in the country. It felt more like she was my kid rather than my little sister sometimes.

"She's grounded. Dyed her hair bright blue. I swear, kids these days..." Mom grumbled irritably, throwing an eggshell in the sink aggressively as if pretending it was the head of the genius who invented hair-dye.

I left her too her thoughts, snatching up the drink and climbing back up the stairs. Upon entering my room, I could see Tweek slipping in and out of sleep again, blinking quickly in order to stay awake. I sighed, slumping my shoulders and sitting in a chair next to him. I set the drink on the floor and helped him sit up, much to his protests.

"I c-can do it m-myself!"

"Yeah, yeah..."

I passed him the Ginger-Ale and he chugged it within seconds, pausing his panting for a moment to belch loudly and laugh. I'll give it too him; it was a good one. Four whole seconds long, I think. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and huffed.

"I'm sorry," Tweek said suddenly, giving me a sheepish smile.

"For what?" I asked, staring at him in confusion. Tweek was one of those kids who apologized _constantly._ I'm sure if someone hit him over the head with a brick he'd still apologize. It was endearing enough, but it really got one my nerves. I mean, it made me feel like a constant jackass for making the kid feel guilty all the time.

"Being a bother," Tweek said, as if it were obvious.

"Look, Small Fry, it's really no problem. If anything, I'm sorry I let you walk alone when I could've gone with you," I sighed, looking at the ground. I still couldn't shake the fact that I could've prevented the whole ordeal. First I make him cry, and now he ends up sick as a dog because of me. I hate to say that Trotting has been getting to me lately, but ever since I'd talked to him on Monday, I'd been second guessing everything I do.

That's a huge problem when I try to pick cereal in the morning without questioning if I'll regret it later. In my defense, I once ate seven bowls of Fiber-One in one sitting and let me just say that it was not the best decision I'd ever made.

"You c-could've g-gone with me?" Tweek's brow scrunched up, and he wiped the sweat from his face again. He coughed into his arm before speaking again. "I t-thought you said you w-were with K-kenny?" I frowned and gnashed my teeth together in nervousness. _Busted_, I thought.

"I, uh, lied," I muttered, rubbing my neck awkwardly. "I was home alone... Sorry," I ended lamely.

Then Tweek did something I hadn't expected. He grinned so wide, I could see his braces. They were bright neon green, and he looked like such a cute little dork. He lunged forward and hugged me. I think he was aiming to grab me around the chest, but he missed and landed at my stomach instead. "T-that's awesome," He said softly, eyelids fluttering shut.

"Aw, come on, Small Fry. Don't fall asleep like that," I half-scolded half-laughed. Tweek flashed me another bright smile and pulled back, only to reattach himself around my broad chest. I sighed, letting him close his eyes and begin to snore softly in his sleep. I figure that I'm taking advantage of the situation, trying to grasp everything about the icy hotness of the boy hanging on to me.

-Line-Break-

Warm water coursed down my shoulders, streaking through my raven hair and falling with soft splashing noises. I sat under the waterfall of warmth for as long as I could, closing my eyes and letting my mind drift. Only when the hot water shut off did I actually get to cleaning myself. I'm not one of those people who likes to scrub themselves raw, but I had to make sure I wasn't going to get sick. One ill snot-nosed kid was more than enough, if my mom's nerves had anything to say about it.

I reluctantly left the steamy confines of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist and drying myself off with another. I'm something of a towel hog, honestly. Mom got sick of it, so I bought my own towels. They're both bright blue with little yellow ducklings covering one side. I used to think it was cute, but now it's starting to get a little uncomfortable drying off with them while they stare at you.

I quickly threw on my boxers and flannels, drying the rest of my hair. I combed it down neatly and smiled at my reflection. I don't mean to brag or anything, but I was one handsome son of a bitch. I was so busy marveling at how much my face looked like Channing Tatum's (Or some other movie star) however, that I didn't have anything on hand to cover myself when Tweek barged into the bathroom.

I'm not sure whose face was redder, his or mine. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was agape in horror. I think I looked the exact same. It took questionably long for me to finally throw on a shirt, and even then, I crossed my arms.

"Well," I trailed off. This secret I'd been trying to hide for so long. To think that it could so easily just be uncovered, just like that, it scared me. Tweek tried to hide his blush, faking a few coughs into his shirt sleeve.

"C-Craig, I swear, I d-didn't s-see anything!" Tweek lied, covering his eyes. I frowned, pursing my lips. Maybe I was done. Maybe I didn't want to lie anymore. Maybe this was the moment I'd secretly been hoping for all along.

"Tweek? Can I ask you something?" I whispered breathlessly, gnashing my teeth together and flipping myself off behind my back. This was the moment of truth, then. Fight or flight.

"Wha-?"

"Tweek, what do you see when you look at me?" I asked reproachfully, desperately hoping for an answer. I don't know why, but this was so much more difficult than coming out to my parents. This... This was hell.

"Craig, t-this is s-stupid, I-" I cut him off.

"Answer the question," I demanded boldly, staring Tweek down and searching his face for answers. His perpetually fearful eyes softened as he found some sort of words in his head. He looked down sheepishly and gave a short humorless laugh. His eyes looked back up and connected with mine. It wasn't like in those stories, where everything dissolved around us or anything. It was still very much there. In fact, everything melted into hyper-definition. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the tiny crack on the ceiling.

"I s-see..." Tweek smiled, tugging at his collar nervously, "I see m-my best f-friend in the w-whole w-wide world." He said, bashfully kicking at the tile.

I was surprised when warm teardrops started to cascade down my cheeks, and despite my genuine smile, Tweek apologized. He raced up to me with a well-aimed barrage of 'Sorry's'. I snorted softly and hugged him tightly. That one sentence... That was really all I'd ever wanted. "Stop apologizing, Small Fry," I said between choked out laughs.

"You aren't mad?" Tweek asked hopefully, his eyes displaying only kindness. He was sort of like a dog that way. Always the kind and loyal type, no matter what.

"Not at all," I said, unable to knock the silly grin off my face. Then a small thought decided to enter my head. I wasn't sure whether I should've asked it or not, but I figured I'd clear all the skeletons from my closet. I mustered up whatever cocky arrogance I had in myself (Which wasn't much) and took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something else?" I said in one quick huff.

Tweek gave me a confused look, but he obliged. I felt my stomach eat itself, and I couldn't hear anything above the pounding in my ears. "Say I knew a guy," I began awkwardly, shuffling my feet and leaning on the marble sink to keep from passing out. "And... And say he really liked you. Like, loved you. And say he wanted to... to kiss you right now. What would you say?"

Tweek shuffled nervously, giving me a glance that could only be bad medicine. "I c-couldn't," He whispered, and my whole world crumbled apart. "I l-like someone else," I was about to cry again, but for a completely different reason this time. My chest felt heavy, and not metaphorically, either. It felt like someone had literally dumped a bunch of cement blocks on my rib cage and I was being crushed under the pressure. My throat closed up, but it didn't matter. I wasn't breathing anyways. I shook my head sadly and lunged forward.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Tweek," I whispered, pressing our lips together. I held the back of his head rather possessively, feeling guilt boil in my stomach. To my surprise, however, Tweek didn't fight it. He sunk into me, and since his hands didn't know what to do, they just sat at his hips awkwardly. I didn't care that I'd probably get sick from this. I didn't care that I wasn't the one. For that moment, those precious fleeting seconds that would be gone in a heartbeat or two, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I pulled back bitter-sweetly, an aftertaste of Ginger-Ale fresh on my tongue. I looked up at Tweek, expecting him to do something. Hit me, yell at me, anything except that stoic expression he had on right now. But I should've known by now; Tweek was full of surprises.

"You're the g-guy?" Tweek asked, making me raise my eyebrows. He honestly didn't get the meaning behind my question? I laughed a little bit, rubbing the back of my neck. Yes, he was a true little blonde, alright.

"I'm the guy," I said, giving him a lopsided grin.

Tweek smacked his face so hard, the sound rang in my ears seconds afterwards. "F-fuck, man! I'm s-so stupid! I t-though you were t-talking a-about Kenny for God's s-sake!" He yelled out, an embarrassed frown on his face. I chuckled at how red his face was getting. "Don't laugh, a-asshole!" Tweek said, although it was hard not to smirk when his face was as red as Super Mario.

"No, it's me. Besides, Kenny likes... Well, everybody. He's too much of a whore to narrow it down to one person." Tweek laughed, tugging on his shirt in mild frustration, the red on his face dying down to a light pink. He never looked so cute before.

"About my question; is your answer the same?" I asked hopefully, searching his face. Tweek shook his head, and I felt the concrete lift from my chest.

"No. I w-would like to k-kiss that guy," Tweek chuckled, a faraway look in his green eyes. Like he was looking at something beyond me. A Mona-Lisa smile crept on to his lips, and he glanced up at me. "B-but hasn't 'now' passed?"

"No," I said simply. "Now is right now."

In a shot of bravery, Tweek wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled internally, showing him how to move his lips in sync with mine. We fit like Tetris blocks, crammed together and locked in an embrace. It was the kind of moment that people just sit around all day and dream of. And for a moment, I fell vulnerable to all those cliche's found in the books and movies. I won't lie when it felt like we melted together. I won't lie when I felt that my life was feeling more complete than it ever had.

I won't lie when I said that it was perfect.

I pulled back, feeling giddy and excited. "I love you," I said, trying to be as movie-star-ish as possible.

"I love you, too," Tweek said, showing off his braces again. I smiled. He didn't even stutter. "And Craig?" He asked, a concerned note to his voice. I gave a nervous snort.

"Yeah?"

"Why d-do you have a-all those a-awful bruises on your body?" I felt like someone had just smacked me over the head. He hadn't been horrified because he seen a girl with the face of his best friend. He was horrified because he had seen all the marks from Kenny's assault last night. I was almost relieved. I wasn't sure I wanted him to know quite yet. I knew now that he'd love me no matter what, but I didn't want to jeopardize anything with my stupid problems.

"Me and Ken got a little out-of-control when we rough-housed," I shrugged nonchalantly. I didn't realize they were enough to make Tweek go red, though. Maybe it was a mix of the two? I wasn't sure, nor did I care to ask.

"A little?" Tweek yelped incredulously, his face contorted in rage and disbelief. "Your w-whole stomach is b-black and b-blue!" To prove a point, he hiked my shirt up to my chest and poked a bruise experimentally. I winced.

"It's nothing," I insisted, putting my shirt back down. "Kenny's just not the best at adjusting."

"Adjusting to what?" Tweek snapped, although I knew he wasn't angry at me. I'd seen him angry at me before, and he usually looked a little sadder and weaker. He practically had flames dancing in his eyes this time. "Is he a-angry because y-you're gay?" Tweek's eyes softened on me.

"No, man. It's other things," I said.

"I don't think I l-like K-kenny that m-much." Tweek admitted, looking downcast. His shoulders slouched and he leaned his forehead on my chest. I patted him on the back sweetly, rubbing in circles. I think he liked that, too, because he made a noise that sounded remotely like a purr and urged me to do it more by puffing out his back. "I get r-real jealous o-of him, and I c-can't stand how h-he's a-all you talk about."

"I talk about Kenny a lot?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Tweek only nodded. "Well, I don't think you should worry much. I have someone else to talk about all the time, now."

Tweek glanced up at me. "Clyde?" He asked genuinely, confusion and a twinge of hurt etched on to his face. I flipped him off in frustration, rubbing circles on his back with my free hand. He was so naive and insecure, I felt pangs of sadness go through me. Did he really not know? Did he really not understand what had just happened? I kissed him gently on the forehead, as if to reassure him.

"No, man," I said patiently, "It's you."

* * *

**Thanks to the amazing reviewers: Sleep Arypsure, Style Marshlovski, AwesomeSpellsPrussia, CaPrIcOrN HoNk, JoannaKuwabara, UsernamesRLame, vampiregoddess13, rainbow cupcake, LunallenaWrwolf01.**

**I don't know if you guys understand this or not, but your reviews mean a lot. I'm not trying to dump the sentimental crap on you guys, either. Knowing someone actually took the time to read something I wrote, nonetheless write out a review, It's amazing. Believe it or not, I was actually originally going to trash this fic. I decided to leave it on for a little while, though, and because of you awesome folks, it's still here. Its only been a month, but I've gotten so far. And unlike my other crap, I WILL finish this. If I don't you guys are allowed to hit me over the head with bricks. (What have I done?)**


	8. My Worst Regrets

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

**HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO WRITE THIS ANGSTY SHIT I WAS REVISING THIS AND STARTED LAUGHING BECAUSE I CAN'T DO THIS. GAH. (And my knee hurts)**

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_Chapter Track: Don't Trust Me- 3Oh!3_

"C'mere," I ordered Ruby, watching with dull interest as she scurried over, her coat in shambles after she had asked Tweek to button it for her. I think she had just wanted to see him fumble with her buttons. Tweek gave me an apologetic glance and scratched his neck awkwardly.

"He really can't do buttons. I thought he was just trying to make a statement with his clothing," Ruby snickered, fixing her blue hair obsessively. It's all she's been doing since she went out of her way to piss off mom and dye it bright blue. She can't have spent less than ten minutes in the bathroom marveling at it.

"Rubes, look at him," I chuckled glancing at the twitcher and grinning affectionately. "He's a complete wreck. Do you really think he has time to think about making a statement with his buttons?"

"Hey!" Tweek snapped, zipping up a blue hoodie that was two sizes too big. It was mine, actually. Seeing him wear it made me proud for some reason, too. Kind of like how a kid is proud when they teach their little siblings something new. "I'm n-not deaf!"

"Sorry," I smirked, not really sorry at all. I had finished Ruby's coat in less than a minute or so, and I dragged both of them out into the cold. Tweek was blabbing about some conspiracy about oxygen or whatever, and I swear, I'd never seen Ruby look so interested in anything in her entire life.

"So is the government trying to get us, too?" She asked with genuine nervousness. That boy will be the end of me, I swear. Wasn't going to be long before Ruby decides to go out with tinfoil wrapped around her head to block out alien mind control waves.

"Not y-yet. They only w-want to infect t-the big c-cities f-first. Trust me, s-soon w-we won't e-even remember w-what it was like to h-have free will," Tweek finished his rant with a professional looking nod. Ruby gasped and went a pale white, and Tweek proudly crossed his arms, smirking as if he had made the negotiations of his life.

"Don't listen to him, Rubes," I snorted, smacking Tweek lightly. He stuck his tongue out at me, and I flipped him off. "He's one crazy son of a bitch," I deadpanned, seeing Tweek grit his teeth in annoyance and sack me on the shoulder a good one. He may be tiny, but he punches like a boxer. I pretended it didn't sting and laughed in mock cockiness.

"Good t-tidings to y-you as well," Tweek snorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice. I flipped him off, grinning cheekily. If I could live my life just in these moments, I'd be _soo_ happy.

"Craig, I like Tweek," Ruby said, making the blonde blush embarrassingly. "Can we keep him?" Her eyes were huge, and she had this hopeful expression on her face that I just couldn't say no to. She tugged on Tweek's arm like it was a leash, pouting and staring up at me expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes, bemused at Tweek's incredulous expression. "He's staying anyways because of his parent's coffee convention thing. He's going to ride your bus home with you." I frowned. I still hadn't mentioned to Tweek about my weekly meetings with Mr. Trotting. He hated the man; I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to tell him or not.

"W-what about you?" Tweek's green eyes flickered to me.

"I have weekly meetings with... A counsler." I said, shrugging. It wasn't a complete lie, though I wasn't sure about how much of the truth I was willing to reveal. I never did work real well with the truth.

"Oh," Tweek murmured, not looking convinced. Tweek was the only person who ever questioned my little white lies. He one of those kids who figured that the truth was always the best, even if it hurt people. I didn't think so.

The truth only proved to hurt. I didn't think lying was bad at all. Lying was just a shield hiding people from the harmful truth. So much so that the person doesn't feel like being protected after a while and pushes the shield away. And all they do is get the brunt force that the shield was trying to defend them from. Lies weren't the problem. The truth was. If I could just believe every lie told to me, I'd be the happiest boy on this face of the earth.

But, you know, the truth hurts.

-Line-Break-

"Craig! Welcome. Have a seat, yeah?" Mr. Trotting offered for me to sit in one of his ugly armchairs, taking his own seat across from me. He was wearing far more casual clothing than I was used to seeing him in. He had gray sweatpants and a red sweater on. He almost looked normal. It was Monday again; and while I had struggled to leave Tweek to his own again, he had eventually convinced me, promising he'd walk home with Wendy and co. I was still worried, but I knew if trouble did happen to arise, Wendy could probably take on the world.

"Thanks, sir," I said formally. I wished Trotting wasn't such a hard guy to hate. Besides the bigotry and such, he was nothing but polite and laid back. He offered to buy me some clothes even, to prove to me he wasn't just a 'Bad Guy'. And mom loved him, too. Though I was pretty sure that based on the glare my dad gave every time Trotting wormed his way into our dinner conversations that he wasn't a big fan.

"Want me to get something to drink? I got some tea in the cupboard," He gestured to the kitchen. I shook my head silently, denying it. He shrugged, plunking down on the couch and whipping out his clipboard.

With a professional nod, he glanced up at me from over his clipboard. "How's school? Family?" He asked genuinely, smiling. There wasn't anything cold or fake about his grin, though. It was just... There naturally. Like he was actually happy to be talking with me. I wasn't used to getting smiled upon; not by kids or adults. I won't lie; his kindness unnerved me.

"Alright," I shrugged. "Mom's been acting a lot more civil to me. It's kind of nice, actually. Except for the fact that my dad rarely smiles or talks anymore. It's really starting to bug me." I don't know why, but it was far easier to talk to Trotting about my feelings or whatever. I felt comfortable, and it scared me to the bone. I didn't want to be safe here. I didn't want to be content here.

"Your father, you say?" Trotting's brow furrowed, and I wondered if the dislike between them was mutual. He scratched something down on his clipboard. "Do you like your father, Chris?"

"I do. He's the best guy in the world, my old man is." There was a lot of pride in those words. As if being the son of my father was the best thing that could ever happen to me. Dad was a nice guy, even if he had been a little on edge for the past week. Even if he had stabbed me in the back last week. I remember he was almost devastated when I told him I didn't like girls. He had plans to take me to the strip bar with him.

"Do you want to grow up to be like him?" Trotting asked, hinting at something I didn't catch on to. I frowned, trying to decode his message.

"Yeah," I said cautiously, tensing. Trotting gently reached out and patted my shoulder, trying to calm down my nerves. I wasn't sure what to be more afraid of. That he was being so nice, or that his efforts were _working_. He was acting like... a parent, almost.

"Do you think that maybe that's the reason you're on this little tangent? To be like your father?" Trotting asked, his cold eyes uncharacteristically kind and warm. I steeled my expression and scoffed, turning my head.

"No," I said. "I'm not on a tangent. This is how I am," I kept my monotone, despite the strong inclination of myself to waver my voice. I felt weak here. I hated it. I... I needed Tweek. It was so different needing someone instead of being needed. It left a sour taste in my mouth, and I couldn't stand it. I just wanted to hold him and shove my nose in his shirt and feel his arms wrap around me comfortingly. I didn't just want it. I needed it.

Fuck, when did I become so dependant?

"Chris, I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Trotting sighed and looked away with a sad smile. "Y'know your mother? She's a lovely lady. Used to go out with her in high school. You could say we were something of an item. So, I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I sort of see you as my kid. Does that make sense?" He glanced back up at me.

"I guess," I muttered, slumping back into the pillow, feeling strangely cold.

"I see," He smiled. "Craig, I know you think this is you, but it isn't. I know it isn't. Sometimes, though, we get confused. And sometimes this can lead us to hurt people we love without meaning too." I frowned, the statement striking a chord with me. I did that far too often. I hurt Tweek when I had gripped his shoulder too roughly, and I had almost gotten him killed by simply not caring enough. All because I was too muddled and confused by emotions and such. But he couldn't have known of such things. He couldn't have.

Perish the thought.

"I.. know," I said softly, looking away. I'm sure he noticed my disturbance.

"Is there anything wrong, Chris?"

"No.. It's nothing," I lied. As soon as the lie left my mouth, I felt something I never did after a lie. _Guilt_. I pursed my lips. It was an unfamiliar pain in my stomach, and I hated it. Trotting... he was just being nice. He was just trying to help... right? I had no right to lie to him... I frowned, wanting badly to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world. I was losing it. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be with my sister and Tweek. God, I couldn't stand this. I could lie to anyone; I could lie to the one I loved. But for the life of me, I couldn't stand the thought of lying to Trotting.

It felt like I was a Stockholm victim. Trapped, but not minding it. Trotting was only looking out for my welfare, after all. And... and what if it really was just a 'phase'? What if I was just confused? What if by lying, I was only hurting Tweek more? And Ruby... I'll bet she'd be so much happier if I was just normal. If I wasn't the sole reason that she may not see me in the morning. Kenny, too. He must be sick already of comforting me without me doing the same for him. He must hate me. Maybe I'm just his good deed, listening to my stupid problems while he's wondering whether he'll live another day. Hell, I bet the whole world would be better off if I just... disappeared.

"Chris? Would you like something to eat before I take you home? We still have a few minutes left. I have peanut butter and jelly; your mother says you love those." Trotting uncrossed his legs and slid his clipboard into the desk drawer across the room. I nodded blankly, to engrossed in my own thoughts to say much. Before I could notice the time melting away before me, I had half-finished a sandwich, biting into it half-heartedly. And in even less time, I was at home, dejectedly walking through the front door.

Tweek burst out from the upstairs, clumsily careening down the stairs and smiling lopsidedly. He stopped in front of me, and I think he asked me how it was. I wasn't truly listening. I shook my head and practically tackled him, my arms firm and taut around his thin frame. My face was pressed into his neck, and I dully felt his fingers coursing through my hair. It wasn't supposed to be like this, though.

Tweek was the weak, emotional one. I was the rock that kept us both grounded ever since I could remember. I was supposed to be comforting_ him_, not the other way around. He was the one that was supposed to break down and fall apart. And I was the one that was supposed to piece him back together. This wasn't right. Tweek shouldn't have to console me. I was the rock.

"S'alright, C-craig," He whispered soothingly into my ear, making me feel so much worse. He shouldn't be doing this. Not after I'd been nothing but awful to him. "You c-can cry, if y-you n-need too. D-don't gotta tell m-me nothing until you're r-ready." Damn it, why was he being so nice? I wanted to be closer and further from him at the same time. I wanted to hit him or something just so he'd get mad at me. I felt sick to my stomach. (**A/N: Craig's losing it, guys**)

"Tweek?" I choked out, nuzzling further into his neck and hugging him so close that they lay no empty space between us. "Why..? Why are you so nice to me? I'm... horrible. I hurt you, and you still come back. I.. I think I hate you sometimes because of that. Why... why do you have to love me so much more than I love you?"

"Because," Tweek said softly, "Because, see, a f-fish needs water, but w-water d-does not need a fish." I smiled. For hating metaphors, Tweek was spectacular at putting them to use. I pulled myself back and smiled sadly. For once, I understood Kenny's addiction to being needed. It felt nice. "Now c-can you tell m-me what's wrong?"

I immediately felt cold and tensed, "It's nothing," I lied, refusing to look at him. He didn't need to engross himself in something that could only cause him worry. It's the least I could do. I expected him to just give me his trademark look of incredulously and frown. Blow it off as something to uncover later. But I still hadn't learned.

Tweek Tweak was full of surprises.

He glared at me angrily and sacked me. Hard. I winced, rubbing the spot on my shoulder that would soon be decorated with a good sized bruise. His face was stony serious, and his eyes had a calm green fire blazing in them. I'd only seen Tweek so angry a few times before. I felt nervous bile rise in my throat, and the inclination to run was stronger than ever.

"Why won't y-you ever tell me anything?" He rarely stuttered, probably a sign of how angry he was. "I'm not a kid, Craig. I don't need to be p-protected! Tell me what's wrong," He ordered, hot tears pricking his cheeks.

"It's nothing," I snapped, harsher this time. The whole while I kept muttering to myself that I'd only hurt him. It was my only anchor to keep from telling him. It was my only strenghth I had to keep the shield up. For some reason, the guilt I had felt with Trotting was gone. I felt _strong_ lying to him. Perhaps this was because deep down, I felt as if this lying was somehow protecting him.

"Tell me! I can h-help! I c-can-" I cut him off.

They say that a cornered rat will bite the cat. That a man with his back against the wall will pull the dirtiest, lowest move he can in order to escape. I wasn't proud, but I did so. I lashed out, snarling. I pushed away from Tweek forcefully and clenched my fists. He couldn't help me. I was something beyond repair. I was... I was broken

"Just **_stop_**!" I shouted, my face growing into that ratlike snarl my mother wore so famously. The one I hated. Tweek, unnerved, fell back with a gasp and his pale face was full of fear. I don't think I'd ever lost my temper with him. Never had I raised my voice. "I said it was _nothing_! You couldn't help me even _if_ there was something wrong! Just _shut up_ for once and _believe_ me!" I know it's difficult to gauge how loud a person is solely on text, but I'm sure if you were there you would've shit a brick. My voice was so loud, it sent tremors through the glass cabinets and even I was set off due to it.

Tweek got up decidedly and wiped a stray tear from his eye by himself. I frowned. It was my job to wipe his tears. He growled loudly and pushed past me. "You're a fucking horrible liar, Craig Tucker," He said without the slightest bit of stutter as he stormed up the stairs and into Ruby's room. I could tell by the way he shook, and by the way he frowned that I'd hurt him again. Bad.

I snarled and roared like an enraged animal. This was all his fault. Trotting's fault. Everything was so much simpler before he came along. Everything was so nice and black-and-white. But now there's a rainbow of messy colors and emotion invading my vision. And I hate it. I want nothing more than to go back to the days when I never fought with Tweek. I want to go back to the days where I didn't have to hide myself because back then I had nothing to hide. I just want to go back.

But only a fool trips on what's behind him.

I sat down on the couch and buried my face into my hands, rubbing my temples. All I wanted to do was protect him. All I wanted to do is make up for the burden I'd been to him over the past few weeks. And All I managed to do was hurt him again. I was exhausted, the energy leaving me like a whirlwind. I pressed my face into the warm confines of the couch, trying to pretend that life was different. Trying to pretend that I could just be normal.

If only a fool trips on what was behind him, I must be a fucking wise guy, because I can't even count how many times I've tripped on something right in front of me.

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**I'm not dead! I hope you guys don't start arming yourselves with bricks just yet...**

**Thank you to my kickass reviewers: Style Marshlovski, Strangeressesses, LunallenaWrwolf01, AwesomeSpellsPrussia, UsernamesRLame, CaPrIcOrN HoNk, Ericka Kensuke, and vampiregoddess13.**

**You all get a 'Stop Touching Me Elmo' for your amazingness. Whether you want it or not.**


	9. He Misheard

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK, YO**

**Sorry for the late shit, man. Midterms and all that Junk are suffocating me in a bunch of algebra stuff I can't understand. Enjoy this anyways. I hope you like it.**

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_Chapter Track: Thnks Fr Th Mmrs- Fall Out Boy_

"You're a fucking horrible liar, Craig Tucker," he spat, glaring daggers into the person he daresay was his best friend and object of affection. Problem being, Craig was just so difficult to love. He was a rotted, decaying piece of molted driftwood that could speak. Craig had about as much depth as he allowed you to dig down too, and about as much affection as a cardboard box.

Which really wasn't much.

Tweek stormed into Ruby's room, slamming the door. His face an enraged ruddy color, he assaulted the first wall in sight and growled loudly. Did Craig not trust him? Was he really that unapproachable? Tweek snarled again and sat on the plush carpet, glad that Ruby had left a small bit ago in order to see a friend. He didn't, of all things, want her to see him nor Craig right now. They were supposed to be role models or something like that. People for Ruby to look up to.

Curling his toes, Tweek shivered a small bit as a sense of shame came over him. What was he thinking? Craig obviously didn't want to talk, and he just had to go and rear his ugly head and push it. And for what? To feel special? To be the one Craig confided in? He ran his hands through his pale hair and decidedly got up, brushing the fuzz from the awful carpeting off his clothes. He slowly walked to the door, the ground beneath him seeming to stretch with every step of the way.

Eventually, he had clambered out of Ruby's bedroom, ready to apologize and hope that Craig would pull himself back together. He crept down the stairs quietly, hand clutching the rail as he could easily fall and crack his head open if he slipped. Stopping at the bottom of the stair case, he took a deep breath before walking forward.

However, he hadn't gotten the chance to so much as show his face before he heard Craig's voice. For a moment, he froze in fear. Then he realized Craig wasn't talking to him in particular. Sighing and going against his better judgment, he sat down silently and perked his ears, listening in to the conversation.

"... Thanks, Ken. I think I needed that. I've been a wreck lately, and it's all his fault, isn't it?" Tweek's breath hitched as he heard the words in Craig's voice. They were full of contempt; that quiet kind of brooding bitterness Craig sort of always dragged around with him. "He's just... Driving me insane, you know? He's been getting to me lately."

Realization began to dawn on Tweek. Were they talking about _him_? Was Craig plotting with Kenny to do away with him and leave him in a circus? Leave him alone? Tweek couldn't stand the thought. Alone, to him, was the only thing worse than death, and only a loose comparison to hell. He needed people. He couldn't be alone. The sound of Craig's unusual bubbling laughter shot Tweek out of his mind.

"I guess you're right. I'm considering never seeing that jackass again, honestly. But... the thought still stands, why do you think I've felt so comfortable around him lately? I mean, I hate the guy!" Tweek stifled a choked cry. Was this honestly what Craig thought of him? But... he had kissed Tweek first. Maybe.. maybe he was just confused.

"I guess it is just something like that. Thank you, Kenny. I ought to tell Tweek, then. G'bye." Tweek's eyes widened and he streaked up the steps, stubbing his toe and unintentionally yelping. He could practically hear the sound of Craig freezing in place. Tweek did his best to scale the rest of the stairs, but only made three or so before Craig rounded the corner and grimaced, coming up to help him. He offered his arm to Tweek, but the blonde pushed it away.

"I don't n-need y-your help!" Tweek screamed, hurt and rage filling his tenor voice. Craig stared at him with shock, but allowed him to struggle up the stairs by himself. Tweek grumbled some incomprehensible things to himself as he climbed the rest of the seven stairs, which took far longer than it should have. Foot still aching, he leaned back against the hallway wall, and turned away from the raven besides him.

"What's wrong, Small fry?" Craig asked softly, as if speaking to some frightened animal. Upon the angry scoff and trembling of his best friend, he gently rubbed behind the shell of Tweek's ear. Tweek frowned, but didn't move away, instead urging Craig to continue with a curt nod of his head.

"I don't w-wanna talk," Tweek snapped temperamentally. Craig frowned and recoiled, retracting his hand, only to be stopped by Tweek, who had grabbed his wrist. The blonde led his boyfriend's hand back to his ear and muttered, "D-don't stop. Please." Craig complied, rubbing in a monotonous pattern once more. Sighing, Tweek leaned his head against his knees, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the shooting pain in his toe.

-Line-Break-

It was a long while before I had calmed Tweek down enough for him to speak. He had a thing for human contact, I figured. After a great deal of ear-rubbing, hair-petting, and stroking the bridge of his nose, he had warmed up enough to finally talk to me. I wouldn't ever tell him, but making him calmer simply by doing something as trivial as fixing the knots in his hair or rubbing behind the shell of his ear made me feel nice. It was like helping someone help you. Eventually, Tweek was curled up against me like a cat, silently telling me to pet him where, and how much.

"You're a little kitten, you know," I smirked, toying with a strand of his hair. Without seeing his face, I knew he had rolled his eyes.

"Meow," Tweek mewed mockingly, flexing his shoulder blades and sinking further into my lap. I liked this. I liked cat Tweek. Things sort of melted from that confusing spectrum of colors they had been into the simple and desirable black and white. Tweek just made things so simple. Like using a calculator in a math test.

We sat for only a few seconds before I spoke up again. "Can you tell me what's wrong, Tweekers?" I really had to struggle to alter my voice to sound as genuinely concerned as I was. My monotone was going to be the death of me, I swear. I even laugh in monotone; a little string of humourless "Ha"s.

"I h-heard you o-on the phone. Is that r-really what you think o-of me?" I blushed. I hadn't realized he had heard all the fucking embarrassing things I had said about him. He wouldn't believe half of them, I know, because Tweek sees himself through some warped vision. He wouldn't believe if I said he was the best thing that had happened to me. He wouldn't believe if I said I loved him a thousand times. And he wouldn't believe for a moment if I told him I wanted to spend the rest of my whole life with him.

"I... yeah. I meant what I said." I whispered, hearing Tweek choke on something, hiccoughing softly and feeling warm tears soak through the fabric of my coat. My brow furrowed, and I instinctively began to try and mitigate his unease once more by rubbing behind his ears. I'm not sure why, but he stopped immediately as if waiting for my next words. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Are y-you r-really going to l-leave me?" Tweek stuttered out pathetically, holding on to the fabric of my clothes as if he'd never see me again. Aghast, I froze. Why would he think such a thing? I suppose the mix of paranoia and insecurities Tweek happened to be was never a good mix to begin with. Perhaps they just manifested over the years with the proper nourishing. I frowned. I wanted to make sure that Tweek would neglect whatever garden of shortcomings he had.

"Never. You understand me? Never in my life, and never in yours," I looked at him sternly, trying to convey the expression I couldn't in all the words of the dictionary to him. "Do you understand?"

"I- but- Craig-"

"Answer me," I hissed, bringing myself back to mere days ago when I had kissed him first.

"I u-understand." He wasn't telling me something, and I knew it. There was something that I was missing. Frustration gripped me as I tried to imagine what could possibly have happened to make Tweek think such a thing. I didn't want to press him, though. I'd hurt him enough tonight.

"I love you, alright?" I pulled his face up to meet mine. His eyes were clouded with disbelief and incredulity, and I couldn't help but feel a little offended. He never believed me. No matter how much I tried, nor how sincere I was. I hated it. His personal walls were bigger than the Great Wall of China. "I love you," I said again, to affirm the statement since it was obviously still bounding around Tweek's onset of insecurities.

I won't lie; I was slightly dejected when he didn't reply besides for a small, meek, "Yeah". Nevertheless, I kept holding him, and comforting him, and doing everything that made us both feel safer.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, bowing my head so that my nose became estranged with his hair and I could smell the scent of coffee radiating off him. Tweek shifted again, so that he could comfortably lay himself against my chest and wrap his arms around my midriff. I swelled with happiness and a small inclination tugging at me and trying to convince me that I was worth something. Was this how normal couples felt all the time? I hoped not. I wanted to be special from them. Not just another cliche. This moment? This was mine.

"I... I know I'm p-pushing it. I d-do. But I c-can't h-help it," Tweek's tenor voice was nothing more than a whisper, and hardly louder than silence. However, I still found a way to hang off every single word. "Can... C-can you tell m-me what's been h-hurting you? I know I c-can't help, but..." He paused for a while, trying to find the words. "But I n-need to know. B-because I w-want to b-be there anyways. E-even if I c-can't d-do anything, I'll still s-support you all you need me too. With whatever."

"Whatever?" I asked cautiously.

"Anything."

I paused for a moment, finding this moment to be as good as any. I tried my best at a smile. I never was good with words, but I figured I'd take my chances at fumbling over every sentence and word. Because I knew Tweek would support me. Even with something as trivial as words. So I began telling a story. Starting from one night that acted like a single domino setting off a chain of words. A story that began when my mother looked at me with her ratty face and called me Chris. And how I corrected her, and called Kenny to come over, and how he found out my dirty little secret.

I told him a story that kept progressing, to the day I talked to Tweek at the coffee shop. To the moment where Kenny charmed Mr. Trotting into earning ten dollars and selflessly giving the money to Tweek. To the very thought that occurred to me that I wished my best friend smiled more often because I though his braces were cute (He blushed furiously at this, and smiled so wide, I couldn't help but kissing him before continuing).

I kept talking, rattling off the events that had happened so quickly, it was amazing how each stupid moment could expand into something significant given just enough thought. Meeting Trotting, Ruby telling me how we may get separated, My father stabbing me in the back and giving me up to Trotting. Contemplating lying to myself one more time... Everything. I hadn't believed myself how much had happened in only a few days. I told him how awfully I felt after taking my anger out on him during a lunch period that seemed years ago, fighting with Kenny, and finding him unconscious in an alleyway. I noted, however, that Tweek was in the safest place possible for the precarious situation. The alleys were partly covered by the roofs of the buildings, and he was protected from windchill. Perhaps his attacker was only looking for a scare...? I brushed it off.

But that wasn't all. Then I explained the moment where he burst in the bathroom, (He insisted that he needed to throw up, but lost the need after he saw me all bruised and the likes), when I kissed him and felt where I needed to be for the first time in my life, all the way to this night, where I had gone off on him trying my best to protect him. To the moment where I called Kenny, and to the moment I was rambling off to him right now on the stairs.

By the end of my story, Tweek had this look about him. Like he wanted nothing more in his entire life than to hear that story. He kissed me sloppily, and I must say, this was the best one yet. Both having exceptionally sizable noses, and with my being built of angles, the first time he tried, we instead clashed noses to chins and had to retry. Very slowly, I might add.

"So you don't care? That I'm.. you know," I flickered my eyes up to his, and he gave me a lighthearted grin.

"Want t-to know w-what I think? I think that y-you're s-still as handsome and s-special as before. Nothing's changed, Craig," I couldn't help but blush rather uncharacteristically. He was all I needed. He made the mud of emotions slip back into black and white. He made me blush and smile in a way that would make others double-take. He made me happy, and I don't know if I could want anything else.

I knew, deep in the pit of my stomach that nothing would stay perfect. So I tried to grip the fleeting moments I had of peace before the inevitable bad with everything I possessed. Of course, time took it's couse with no care to my feelings, and slipped on ahead, and before I knew it, It was around twelve o' clock at night, two nights later, and my cell phone had rung. I groggily sat up, rubbing my eyes.

"Lay back d-down," Tweek ordered drowsily. He hadn't much coffee here, and he'd slipped into something of a normal sleeping pattern. I could tell he didn't like it; felt it made him too vulnerable. Which was why my sleeping in bed with him was a good idea. Gave him something solid to hold on too, I guess.

"One sec, Small Fry. I need to take this," To that, Tweek replied with possibly the most exaggerated and obnoxious groan of disapproval that I had ever heard. It lasted a good seven seconds, of which I used to answer the phone. Tweek was still groaning and groping at me when I greeted, "Hello?"

"Craig," I opened my eyes at the voice. It was Kenny. He never usually called_ me_ unless there was something serious going on. I nervously bit my lip, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. I could even hear the distress in his unusually taut voice.

"Something wrong?" I asked, no longer tired as I felt a hole being carved out of my stomach. Tweek seemed to sense my distress, as he picked himself up too, and pressed his ear to the back of my phone in order to attempt to hear.

"It's... It's Karen, man," I tried to rack my brain to remember who Karen was, finally remembering that she was Kenny's sister. Kenny must've took my pause as admittance to keep talking. "She's in the hospital, man. She's been sick with god knows what lately, and I just found her laying there in the hallway, like she was dead, and _oh god, Craig..._" The last words were choked out in a sob. I was taken aback; I had never heard Kenny cry in all my life. Hearing it now was like trying to decipher a different language. "We think she's got something bad, and just, please, can you make it to Hell's Pass? I know it's late but.."

"S'alright, Ken. I'll be there as soon as possible," I said quickly, hearing one more muffled thank you before hanging up and hopping out of bed. Tweek frowned, getting up and disjointedly fixing on more apt clothing.

"You can stay," I told him gently, trying not to aggrivate him with my constant obsessive protectiveness. Tweek just shook his head sadly and pushed past me.

"He's my friend t-too," Tweek reminded me dully. I frowned, throwing a coat around my shoulders and slipping on my boots, stepping down the stairs carefully. I skipped the last steps, and helped Tweek jump them as well. As I had my hand on the doorknob, I heard a disgruntled scoff, and whipped around only to see Ruby looming at the top of the staircase.

"Where are you assholes racing off too?" She asked in the most polite tone she had. Which really wasn't much. I grunted.

"Hell's Pass. Karen's in the hospital. It'll be alright Ruby, just go to sleep," I said softly, flinching when I seen Ruby show me a flash of anger in her amber eyes. "We'll be right back; we just want to see how she's doing."

"I'm coming with you," Ruby declared.

"No you aren't. You have school tomorrow," I opened the door, ready to race out of it. All these wasted seconds... I could be on the road to Hell's Pass by now. Honestly, these seconds are going to end my life. With every second I waste doing nothing when I could be doing something... It bothers me.

"Fuck that! Karen's my_ best friend_, and I'm going."

I relented, knowing what it was like worrying for someone you cared about. decidedly, I nodded in approval and walked out the door, heading down south to the hospital. To Kenny and Karen. To light blue scrubs and the smell of disinfectant wipes. To Hell's Pass...

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**Thank you to my amazing reviewers, queenhellhound, vampiregodess13, AwesomeSpellPrussia, UsernamesRLame, and Style Marshlovski. Keep breathing oxygen. You need that stuff. **


	10. More Holes Than a Cut Rug

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Excuse the longer-than-usual update time. I've been a little uninspired and have deleted seven versions of this chapter before finally writing one and keeping it. Which, in retrospect, hasn't changed a single thing, because I really hate this whole chapter. This is why I can't write chapter stories. I never think shit through. Fuck. **

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_Chapter Track: I Cannot Believe My Eyes- Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_

I barged into the hospital, cringing as the bright florescent light clouded my vision. I didn't like hospitals that much; they were just way too freaking clean. The waxed floors were shined up so well, I could see my exhausted eyes glittering back at me. Pristine, unmarred walls went down two singular hallways that seemed to go on forever. I could tell Ruby wasn't feeling too at home here either. She was clinging on to my sweater, because it was the grossest, most foul-smelling thing nearby to her. ent

Call us white-bred trash, but god damn it, we grew up on the disgusting scent of nicotine and the dirty markings of week-old stains. That's what made us happy and safe. You'd only have to take one look into my sister's room to see proof. Stains on the rug, old garbage laying haphazardly on the floor, that kind of stuff was what we liked. Not this clean-ass perfection. It was unreal to us, unscratched by anything to make it feel like it had the imperfection of something with life.

Although Ruby and I were totally out of our domain, Tweek looked right at peace here. His shoulders sagged contently, and there was a pleased look on his face. "Why c-can't your h-house b-be like this?" He snapped in a parental tone.

"This place is creepy," Ruby said softly, scrunching up her face in disgust. "Why would we want our house to smell like hand sanitizer all the time?" I sighed and strolled over to the front desk, seeing a small lady sitting there. She was one of those old, frail women that I always hated. Honestly, if you're seventy years old you should just milk your age of everything it's got and get recompense from the government. There's absolutely no need to go out and work and make me feel bad for being a lazy asshole.

"Better t-t-than y-your house smelling l-like old s-spaghetti," Tweek pointed out uselessly. I tended to like the scent of old tomato sauce, thank you. It gave my commode some character instead of being just another house on the block. Kyle's house had huge golden Jewish Stars hanging around and a larger-than-life Canadian flag marking it, why the hell couldn't mine smell like an Italian chef's old home? Ruby gave him a disgusted look.

"You have no taste for personality," She said, with a diva-like flip of her hair. Tweek retaliated with something, but I ignored their arguing to speak to the lady. She gave me a questioning look, but I didn't really care what the hell she thought.

"Can I help you?" She asked politely, although adjusting her glasses in a severely annoyed look. I nodded quietly.

"Uh- Karen McCormick?" I asked, although it really wasn't a question. "Do you know which room she's in?" The lady pursed her lips.

"Yes, but they're only allowing in family. You punks go and play with your toys," She snapped. I guess in retrospect I could understand her annoyance; I mean, who wants to spend their Sunday night trying to deal with a guy and his bickering group? But then, I really didn't care about retrospect. I cared about the fact that I wanted in and this lady wouldn't let me. Flipping her off under the desk, I growled and stared daggers into her beady eyes.

"I'll have you know that we are family. I'm her cousin, er- Dallas," I ended lamely, finding the first name that came to mind when I thought of hick southerners. The lady gave me an unimpressed glare, raising a single eyebrow and looking over my group. Tweek was arguing (Very heatedly, I might add) about the cons of having the scent of speghetti around the house while Ruby just chuckled as if he were making a joke. But I seen the convicted look on his face. He was as serious as they got.

"Alright,_ Dallas, _you gonna try and tell me that those two are Ponyboy and Cherry Valence?" I gave her a confused glance, but she just chuckled at her own wisecrack and shooed me away. Old people have weird senses of humor. Maybe when I'm older I'll be like that. Although, I really don't have a huge sense of humor anyways; hell if there's any left of it when I'm twenty, not to even consider eighty.

"Ma'am, I really need to-" She cut me off rudely.

"You need to go home; it's a school night, Chris Tucker." I gave her a horrified look, to which she only laughed at and smirked knowingly. "I never forget a face. You and that little cocaine addict-" I clenched my fists and snarled, "-Came in years ago all banged up and sore like. You two got kicked out of the hospital for rumbling and disturbing the peace. Looks like you're friends now, though, huh?" She reminisced. I honestly had no patience for he trip down memory lane. I wanted to see Kenny. I wanted to comfort him, and make sure Karen was alright. The old hag sniffed irritably. "I would've thought you'd grow out your hair by now though."

"Guys with long hair look weird, ma'am," Ruby interjected in my defense, a miffed expression gracing her face.

The lady gave us her annoying little snort of disapproval and waved us away. "I'm simply saying that you would have looked like a lovely little lady. Not a filthy boy." I rolled my eyes. For being an open-minded community, there sure were a hell of a lot of conservative assholes just waiting to get sacked a good one. But I couldn't sack an old lady. Maybe if she were a dude, I would've gone all for it, but along with the rest of the world, we were still on biased gender roles.

"I'll have you know that I personally love being a disgusting, messy _girl_," Ruby snarled. I shooed her away, mouthing for her to quit it. As much as I loved her standing up for me, it sort of attacked my ego a bit. I mean, I was almost a god dammed man of eighteen, I should be able to stand my ground against an old bat.

After a small bit of staring, I just decided to go and see if I could come back later. I ushered Tweek and Ruby over, and we were just about to leave when I heard Kenny's voice.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked.

"The old bat won't let us in," I smirked, pointing towards the lady at the front desk. She gave me an evil glare, only to get the finger. Kenny chuckled and gestured for us all to follow him, leaving the bat to gawk angrily at us.

"Thanks, Ken," I slapped him on the back and he retaliated with a smack to my chin.

"Anytime," He laughed.

Karen's hospital room was nothing spectacular. Just a bed with lousy-looking sheets, a small table, and a television. A few empty beds sat next to hers, divided by a curtain, but besides us, there wasn't anyone else in the room. Karen was sleeping, smiling a bit in her rest as she clutched a small doll. Ruby immediately raced over to her, only to be blocked on the way by a large, lanky boy. Kevin McCormick, Kenny's brother, stood in her way. He was taller than my father, and his tanned face was covered with grease stains and age-old band aids. He had sunken in eyes, and chestnut hair so long, he had to tie it up in a ponytail. If he wasn't the epitome of masculinity currently in the room, I would've definitely have called him a pansy.

"Don't bother her," Kevin said in a deep voice. "She's sleepin' can't ya see?" He ushered her back, and I pushed myself to glare at him.

"She ain't gonna hurt her," I snapped, softly as not to wake the sleeping girl. "Let her sit there, yeah?" Kevin glared at me, obviously not intent to move. Kenny walked over and pushed him out of the way, growling softly. Ruby looked up for a moment before occupying the seat Kevin just sat at. She leaned her head onto the bed mattress, huffing in resignation.

"She's got some disease in her heart, man," Kenny murmured, leaning on to me for comfort. I nodded, unsure of what to say. "There's some treatment out there, but it ain't gonna do me no good. Too expensive, and it doens't guarantee anything." I went to speak, to say that I'd do anything I could to help. But Kenny was one step in front of me. "Don't even think of it, man. I can't take anything from you. I've already done too much." I didn't know what to think of that. The last words kept repeating in my mind: _"I've already done too much". _Had I done something for him? I don't think so. He wouldn't've let me.

Tweek looked torn at the sight in front of him. All bitterness for Kenny seemed to have vanished, and he shook his head. "This is s-so u-unfair." He said quietly, rubbing his eyes. By the way his voice cracked, I was sure he was about to start crying. But as that would be a total blow to his ego (Given he had one), he simply sniffed and tried to inconspicuously rub the tears from his eyes. "None o-of you d-d-deserve this."

"Yeah? Well God obviously don't care about who deserves what," Kenny snapped, lashing out at Tweek. It was uncalled for, but given the situation at hand, I let it slide.

"I w-want to help," Tweek said with a determined look on his face. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Leave it to Tweek to help and make_ everything_ better. I swear, that boy needed a taste of the real world sometime.

"Help? Fine, you can help. How about you come up with seven-thousand dollars within the next few weeks? Huh?" Kenny snarled, the equivalent of him smacking Tweek square in the face. But Tweek didn't back down.

"M-maybe I will." I grunted in apathy, turning to the bed to look at Karen. Her auburn hair was splayed about her like a halo, and her soft face glittered with life. Ruby looked up at me angrily, although I knew her anger wasn't directed at me.

"Tweek was right, Craig," She said quietly, looking at me as if I had all the answers. "This is unfair. We were supposed to get married to a really hot pair of twins and move in right next to each other, and it's stupid, but I was actually counting on that to happen in a sense. I mean, what would you do if it was Kenny? Or Tweek?" I frowned. Would I be as apathetic as I was right now? Would I figure it'd just be better to give up? Something tells me I wouldn't, but I'm not sure whether to believe it or not.

"I... I don't know," I answered honestly, sighing.

"You don't know? Huh." She left it at that. Maybe she was expecting more. Something to prove to her that her big brother was actually worth something. But she wouldn't get it. Not in a million years, because I just wasn't that kid. Tweek was. Kenny was. Not me. Sometimes I wonder if Tweek would've been a better big brother for Ruby. He gets along so well with her, and he wouldn't be a big clump of disappointments like me.

"C'mon, Ruby. It's a school night. We'd better get home," I stood up, gesturing for Tweek to follow along with me.

"No," I reeled around as the words left Ruby's mouth. "I want to stay."

"You're coming home," I ordered, snarling. I grabbed her arm and she ripped it away, giving me a hurt expression.

"No. Please," I was mixed up, I guess. It was two A.M., I was cranky as is, and I guess I just felt too exasperated to do anything but act rough. Like mom, almost. Domineering, obsessive. All I knew was that Ruby, Tweek, and I were doing nothing except bothering the McCormicks. We'd be better off going home, and if Kenny wouldn't let me help, then I at least would be wary of bothering him.

"Ruby," I said warningly.

"You can't order me around like mom!" She snapped at me. I snarled, bringing my hand up and smacking her roughly.

A hushed silence overcame the room. Tweek stared at me in what I could only assume was shock. Kenny glared at me, as if reminding me that I had messed up yet again. Ruby whimpered, terrified. I hadn't ever laid a hand on her before besides in a joking manner. She looked like she was about to cry, but instead she just shoved past me and ran out the door. I began to go and get her, but I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't," Was all Kenny said, as I stood there helplessly. Tweek glared at me before storming out to get her.

What was wrong with me? I couldn't do anything without hurting someone, could I? I always had to hurt someone, because god forbid Craig Tucker make someone smile for even the smallest fraction of a second. Kenny shook his head. "You let her stay," He said gruffly. "You, on the other hand, should probably go." I nodded, heeding the words. It was my fault, after all. I slunk out of the door and quietly stepped down the halls. I passed Tweek, who was trying to comfort my little sister. I didn't give a fuck, really. He could be her big brother for all I cared. I flipped them both off as I walked out the door.

"Craig!" Tweek snapped, gaining my attention.

"What?" I asked temperamentally, the lack of sleep and my bad mood beginning to grind on my gears.

"So y-you're just g-going to leave?" Tweek asked, standing up and gently ushering my sister back to the room with a twitch of his neck.

"You don't understand," I said, effectively sounding like an emotionally stunted emo kid.

Tweek just rolled his eyes and walked back towards the hospital room. I knew it was pretty bad then. It took a lot to make Tweek lose patience. But I had effectively done it. I had unceremoniously dropped from the stoic bad-ass of the universe into a huge cesspool of emotions. I just wanted to give life a huge middle finger, and curse it for giving me the grand present of female-bipolarity.

Fuck my life.

-Line-Break-

A man clasped his hands together cheerfully. "So," he began, his smooth voice making the boy in front of him shudder, "You're willing?" The boy kicked at the carpet beneath him bashfully, nodding silently.

"I'll d-do anything," Tweek Tweak muttered. He let the man guide him to a couch, where he lounged down on it. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to talk to this man, and he sure as fuck didn't want to do what he wanted. The man smirked malevolently. He leaned close to the boy, so much so that his putrid breath bounced off Tweek's pale face.

"Good. No backing out now." He said, watching the small kid breathe heavily and run a hand through his blonde hair.

"W-what do you want me to d-do?" Tweek asked softly, leaning on his arms. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. He wanted, more than anything, to just be cuddled up next to Craig and be away from this whole mess. But he made a vow to Kenny. He was going to help, by whatever means necessary. Even if it meant doing something that would tear him and his boyfriend apart. Because he owed it to him. Because he was in debt.

Because he had no other choice.

"I want you to break him." The man chuckled darkly, relishing the look of pure hate on Tweek's face. "Like his mother broke me. Then, and only then, will I provide you with the proper pay."

Tweek nodded, feeling a deep pit in his stomach. "Okay." He muttered, looking down. He wanted to have Craig. He wanted to hug Craig, and kiss him, and do all the stuff that normal couples could do. Because he knew that they wouldn't be doing anything of the sort for a long, long while.

He needed to do this, though. He was in debt. To somebody who would never ask for money, or tell him to do anything for him. Honestly, the person he was so very much in debt to would be strongly against this. But sometimes, the biggest plea for help was pushing people away. He could see the desperation in the person's eyes. He didn't want to do this one bit. But he would.

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_As the hand clasped around his shoulder, Tweek screamed, kicking and punching at anything solid in front of him. He couldn't see anything besides a big blur of unrecognizable color. He felt a searing pain go through his temples, and he stumbled back, vision blurry. He was going to die now, he just knew it. A familiar face looked down on him and his breath hitched. A rough hand grasped the scruff of his collar, dragging him off to an alleyway. Cold seeped through his clothing, and he whimpered. The only reason he wasn't fighting back now was because his aggressor had something about his eyes. Some sort of terrible remorse. _

_"I'm so sorry," He said softly, clasping a hand over Tweek's mouth and nose, suffocating him. "But I have too, alright? I'll be back, I promise." Tweek nodded submissively as black began to edge his vision. He wasn't going to fight it. He knew better. He trusted the boy in front of him. The boy in front of him was his friend. The guy who had been with him when nobody else would. The guy he knew couldn't hurt him. Perhaps Tweek held his faith in the boy a fair bit too much, but he didn't care. _

_Tweek embraced the dark that began to swallow him whole. The boy in front of him kept whispering things, on how he'd be alright. But he didn't need them, and they were slipping into garbled gibberish anyways. And before he knew it, Tweek was unconscious. _

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**Thank you to my awesome reviewers: Strangeressesses (Yep. You get creds for helping me wiggle my way out of a plot hole. :3), Style Marshlovski, LunallenaWrwolf01 (x2!), and vampiregoddess13. Sorry for dumping this load of plot-hole bullshit on you guys after all the great reviews. **

**Merry whatever the hell you celebrate! (I call it 'ChrisnawanzikaJew') **


	11. The Real Deal

I DONT OWN SOUTH PARK

Wow, I finished. Damn. Alright, this last chapter's short, because I didn't feel the need to force words to satisfy the three-thousand word goal. My update was late this time because I got a tablet recently, and I've been animating on it. And that shit takes a long time. I've spent five hours on it and made 13 seconds of sorta progress. so yeah.

My next fic is coming up soon, and I know like none of you care, So I guess I'll just let you read this shit.

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"Hey, Craig?" Tweek was nervously tugging on his hair, gnawing on his lower lip. His huge green eyes darted to and fro, and his eyebrows were showing some sort of perpetual fear. I knew something was very wrong from that moment.

"Yeah?" I lazily looked at him from where I was sitting on the bed.

"D-does it bother y-you t-that we don't do anything... Y'know i-intimate?" He asked, waving his hands like mad and sweating out of nerves. His face was cherry red.

I really didn't mind not doing the normal couple things, honestly. We didn't make out every five seconds, and we didn't cuddle that often or have sex or anything, but I liked the chaste sort of affection we shared. It was unorthodox. I mean, sure, we kissed and stuff, but only sometimes. But maybe he wanted more or something? I didn't have the slightest idea.

"No. Why?" I raised my eyebrows and looked over at him. We were laying on the bed, me propped up against the headboard and Tweekers cuddling my fuzzy yellow pillow by the other end. I didn't have the heart to tell him the things I'd done to that pillow. Too embarrassing, plus the fact that he'd have an anurism if he found out.

"I just- y-you know what? Forget a-about it," Tweek ended lamely, blushing.

"Aw, come on," I chuckled lightly, "I ain't gonna laugh. Honest."

"I just f-figured y-y-you'd l-look kind o-of p-p-pretty i-if you l-looked like a g-girl and uh- we c-could do c-couple things?" He said the whole thing like a question, and I wasn't sure by the end of it whether to tell him to leave my sight or laugh hysterically. I couldn't figure out whether he was kidding or dead serious.

"Can we not do couple things like this?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes. While the prospect of Tweek being so closed minded as to suggest I needed to be a girl to do 'couple things' with him was unfathomable, but I'd been second guessing everything that's been going on lately. I crawled up to sit next to him, bumping his knee with my own.

"W-we can, but..."

"But what?" I leaned in so that my breath bounced off of his cheeks. He squirmed awkwardly, eyes wide. I didn't care. Impulse forced me into this mess, and I trusted it. Even though I knew it was nothing but trouble.

"C-craig, stop," Tweek ordered, something that went unheeded as I dragged my lips to his chin. His skin was real soft, and I wondered if he used some sort of moisturizer. He shook profusely, hand on my shoulders. It didn't feel like he was pushing me away, though. More like he was pulling me closer. But that may have just been the pressure of the whole situation. I don't remember what I was thinking. Maybe I figured I could fix this whole thing.

"C-craig!" Tweek snapped as I ravished his neck. I didn't know if he liked it or not, and I don't remember caring either way. I seen these movies before where the guy sucks real hard on the girl's neck and she liked it. It left a big red mark or something like that and everyone knew to stay away from her because she was his. I wasn't really prepared or knowledgeable of this stuff, so I just sucked really hard where his neck met his collar bone. He yelped, and I looked up quickly to make sure I didn't hurt him or anything.

He didn't look like he was hurt. His whole face was scarlet, and his fingers were threaded in his own hair. His teeth poked out of his mouth, planted in his lower lip. "Stop, stop, stop," He kept chanting through grit teeth. I don't know if he meant it though, because he wasn't doing anything to stop me. Maybe he just got his words muddled or something.

I shut him up with a quick kiss, and he stared up at me with an unreadable expression. His lips were moving against mine, though, so it couldn't have been that bad. Although, he might've just been moving them to whimper.

I read a whole lot, a lot more than I was willing to admit. And I read my fair share of romance novels. They in no way prepared me for this, but at least I wasn't going cold turkey. I didn't know what he liked, or if he liked this at all. I don't know if I liked it. Either way, I slowly stripped him of his button down shirt and kissed down his pale chest.

"Craig, d-don't," Tweek begged. I was seriously getting mixed responses from this kid. He was whining for me to stop, but his legs had curled around my midrift, so even if I did want to stop, I'd be held there. My tongue traveled around his milky stomach, like they did in the books and movies. Hands scoring over his frail body, I felt real. I felt infinite.

Before I could do anything more, however, he pushed me away. "I s-said stop," He snapped.

"You were leading me on," I shot back, "Am I not being intimate enough, or am I too intimate?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist gently. Tweek's breath hitched, but he let me.

"This is f-fine," He mumbled out. I paused, contemplating the right way to word my next question.

"U-uh, did it feel, y'know, good?" I choked on my own spit. I wasn't sure then who was redder between Tweek and I. He shoved his nose in the fabric of my shirt and whined. I loved how temperamental he could get.

"It felt w-weird. b-but i-in a real good way," Tweek said, his words muffled by my clothing. It was a long time before either of us spoke again. we just sat there, enjoying the company of each other. Tweek broke the silence.

Tweek bit his lip roughly. "I need to tell y-you something, but I k-know you're gonna be mad."

I gave him a suspicious glance, rolling my knuckles around his hip to occupy myself. He squeaked and blushed, muttering for me to stop it. But he was grinning, so it couldn't've been too bad, right? "What is it?"

"I-it's about Trotting. And Kenny. And myself." I was really listening now. "Kenny's sister's been sick for a while now, y'know. He needed money, and nobody would take him in because of his reputation. So he turned to Trotting. He's the guy that attacked me a few days ago." Tweek was saying all of this so fast; he wasn't even stuttering. But I got the gist. And frankly, I was pissed off beyond belief.

Kenny, my best friend; the wisecracker, the buddy; he was the one responsible for the near death of my boyfriend. You don't hurt Tweek. You just don't.

"He's been selling your secrets. Things to help trotting get under your skin." Tweek explained rapidly, like a gattling gun going of on it's victim. "And I... I was told to.. b-break you." There's that stutter. "Y-your heart, I mean." He flinched, as if he thought I was going to hit him. But I wasn't. Quite the opposite, actually. Whether he liked it or not, I sort of freaking ravished him senseless.

I'd love to go into more detail, but what we did was sort of unprintable for something with only a "T" rating. In the end, we just sort of lay there, him wrapped up in my arms. "What're y-you g-gonna do?" He asked softly, already starting to doze off.

"I'm gonna let him. I'm gonna let him do whatever he needs to me so that his sister's good. Ruby would kill me if I didn't." Tweek chuckled at this and nuzzled into my neck, passing out almost instantly.

At that point in time, I didn't know what would happen in the future. More pointless troubles and more stories without proper endings, but hey; isn't that life? For the time being, I just lay in bed, smiling and feeling real good. The sound of my mother walking in on us was sort of like a big bell announcing the winner of a fight. And I knew the score. I knew it real good, alright.

_Craig: 1_

_Universe: 0_

**END**

* * *

**CATCALLS AND LOVE TO EVERYONE WHO READ/FAVORITED/REVIEWED/ALERTED. It's four am, so I'm not up to put up the reviewers but you know who you are. I'll make it up to you somehow. And you can throw away your bricks now. **


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